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WARRENIANA : 

WITH KOTES. 



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WARRENIANA; 







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NOTES, 



CRITICAL AND EXPLANATORY-, 



3Efte SSirttor of a <auatrterls atebfeto 






I have even been accused of Writing Puffs for 
Warren's Blacking. Lord Byron, 



BOSTON : 

PUBLISHED BY WELLS AND LILLY, 

AND 

O. WILDER AND JAMES M. CAMPBELL, 

NEW-YORK. 



1824. 



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Nothing can cover his high fame but heaven ; 

No pyramids set off his memory 

But the eternal substance of his greatness 

To which I leave him. Beaumont & Fletcher, 



TO 



THE KING'S 

MOST EXCELLENT MAJESTY. 



Sire, 

A devout admirer of church and state 
presumes to lay the following pages with cha- 
racteristic propriety at your feet By this act, 
he would be understood to wave his consider- 
ation of the monarch, and to address himself 
exclusively to the munificent Mecaenas of the 
fine arts. Deign then, oh best of Princes, to 
justify his appeal, that posterity may learn how 
Warren enlarged the bounds of science, and 
his Sovereign bowed approval. Periander, oh 
King, yet survives in connection with the 
sages whom he upheld, and long after the 
trophies of a Wellington shall have floated 
down the Lethe of oblivion, the name of 
Guelph, eternised by the gratitude of Warren, 
shall flourish to after ages^ the Medici of 



IT DEDICATION. 

modern art. That as yet this mighty Manu- 
facturer has lived comparatively unnoticed, he 
casts no reflection on Your Majesty ; he resigns 
that office to his Blacking, but feels with the 
sensitiveness of neglected genius, that intellect, 
like the oak, is but tardy in the attainment of 
its honours. But his hour hath at last arrived, 
the sun of his fortunes is high in heaven, and 
its full meridian effulgence he here dedicates to 
the service of Your Majesty. 

In a kindred spirit of unexampled loyalty, 
his Editor ventures to subscribe himself, 
Your Majesty's most dutiful, 
Most zealous, 

Most affectionate, 
And most obsequious, humble servant, 

W. G. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

Introduction. By W. Gjti - - - - 7 

Warren. W. Lty-jftM^ - - - 14 

Old Cumberland Pedlar. W. W«, t - 20 

Warren in Fairy land. J. H. - 26 

A Nursery Ode. L. H n -,,;1; - - - - - 33 
Digression on the Family of Warren at the Time of the 

Crusades. C.'M*tJta - - - ;~ " 37 

Carmen Triumphale. R. S., P. L. ' O * - - 43 
The Triumph of Warren, a Cambridge Prize Poem C.H.T.48 

The Girl of Saint Mary- Axe. B.C. - - - 5% 

The Sable School of Poetry. B. M.i - - ' - 63 

The Childe's Pilgrimage. Lord B. - 70 

The Dream, a Psychological Curiosity. S. T. C. - 80 

Annus Mirabilis. The N. M. M^-rJ r - - 92 

Warren at Saint Stephen's. TheRVoftheT. - 100 

Battle of Brentford Green. Sir W. S. - ~ - 121 

A Letter to the Editor of Warreniana. J. B. > - 134 

Song. J. B. ------- ise 

Appendix. W. G.uM .J 141 

INotes, critical and explanatory. W. G. - - 151 



INTRODUCTION, 

By W. G. 



In order to account for my connection with this vo- 
lume* it is necessary to revert to a favourite and lead- 
ing episode in my early life. This is an egotistical, 
but, as my friends all assure me, a requisite duty, and 
one the mere mention of which will plead, 1 trust, 
my best apology with the public. At any rate it shall 
have brevity* to recommend it. 

The reader who is at all acquainted with my trans- 
lation of the Roman satirist will remember, that in 
the memoirs prefixed to that volume I alluded to the 
fact of my having been sent to a little day-school at 

A n. To this I have to add, that I had continu* 

ed but a short time in a state fluctuating between 
the extremes of despondency and hope, when a boy, 
by name Warren, was dispatched to the same acade- 
my. This boy was the present celebrated manufac- 

* As I have already written my Memoirs at full length in my 
translation of the satirist of Aquinura, it is superfluous to repeat 
more in this place than bears directly on the point G, 

9 



INTRODUCTION 

turer of the Strand. He was many years my junior, 
ardent and speculative in his turn of mind, warm- 
hearted and sincere in his disposition, and eccentric 
in his general demeanor. There was, in fact, a some- 
thing about Lim that excited while it rivetted atten- 
tion* and inspired me with the proud hope of one day 
becoming his associate, I was not deceived in my 
conjectures ; a sympathy of situation seemed to draw 
us with the force of a magnet towards each other, till 
from mere school companions we became bosom 
friends. 

But these halcyon days were not long to last. A 
summons from his father, who was a wholesale manu- 
facturer of blacking, recalled young Warren to Lon- 
don, and I was bound apprentice to a shoe-maker at 
A n. In this situation I languished away six 
dreary years, with no earthly amusement to divert 
ennui but occasional correspondence with my friend. 
Time, meanwhile, rolled over both our heads ; by 
the kindness of friends, more especially by that of 

the late Lord G r, I was enabled to prosecute my 

studies at Exeter College, Oxford ; while my friend 
continued his slow but certain career under the fos- 
tering patronage of the metropolis. Still, notwith- 
standing the difference of our pursuits, our attach- 
ment remained unabated ; so much so indeed, that 
when I ever meditated a few days' retirement from 
the fatigue of literary pursuits, my inclinations had 
always a reference to the Strand, 



INTRODUCTION 9 

It was during one of these later visits in the au- 
tumn of 1820, when both (shall I be excused the ex- 
pression?) had acquired some little celebrity, that 
my friend proposed to me the Editorship of the pre- 
sent volume. He was pleased to add, that the cir- 
cumstance of my previous apprenticeship to a shoe- 
maker peculiarly fitted me for the task, and that he 
would diminish what remained of difficulty by his 
own immediate co-operation, It appeared, when I 
catechised him on the subject, that in order to in- 
crease his connection he had been for years in the 
habit of retaining the services of eminent literary 
characters. This joined to his own poetical * abili- 
ties, which displayed themselves in perpetual adver- 
tisements, had considerably enhanced the value of 
his profession. Still a something seemed wanting; 
one complete edition of" Warreniana," to which the 
public might refer as certificates of his merit. With 
this view he had lately engaged all the intellect of 
England in his behalf; each author furnishing a mo- 
dicum of praise in the style to which he was best 
adapted, and receiving in return a recompense pro- 
portioned to his worth. There were some, however, 
who from the circumstance of their residing abroad, 

(as in the instance of Lord B ) found no little 

difficulty in complying with this application. In 
such case their own bookseller was appointed the 

* For an ingenious criticism on the merits of Mr. Warren, as 
a poet, the reader is referred to the article intituled "The Sa« 
b!e School of Poetry," 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

agent through whom their communications were con- 
veyed. 

On being informed of these particulars, I assented 
to my friend's proposal, and forthwith applied my- 
self to the Editorship of hs " Warreniana." I be- 
gan by sifting the different MSS. confided to my in- 
spection, and ascertaining, in the next place, their 
claims to authenticity and respect. My researches, 
in short, were attended with as severe mental labor 
as my late Memoirs of Ben Johnson. Occasionally I 
found the text obscure* either from the difficulty of 
its local allusions or the hieroglyphic confusion of its 
characters. Not unfrequently I discovered a fact 
set forth on the flimsiest and most apocryphal testi- 
mony, or an expression that was to all appearance 
doubtful, where, in point 01 fact, it was merely ob- 
solete. To these verbal or local difficulties I affixed 
both critical and explanatory notes, which the reader 
will find methodically arranged at the close of the 
volume. He need not be alarmed at their bulk, for 
I can assure him that in the selection I have been 
principally influenced by my regard for a pertinent 
brevity. 

Among the numerous contributors to whose arti- 
cles these annotations are appended, may be found 
the names of my opponents both in politics and lite- 
rature. I mention this in order to avoid the charge 
of inconsistency ; for surely in a work like the pre- 
sent, whose sole intention is to advertise the merits 



INTRODUCTION, 11 

of one individual, such asperities are altogether irre- 
levant. Sometimes, however, these articles exhibit 
a marked difference (as in the instance of the "psy- 
chological curiosity,") to the style usually adopted 
by their author. This would naturally induce my 
readers to consider them as fictitious ; far from it, 
they are nothing more than dexterous disguises by 
which he endeavours to excite an anonymous curiosi- 
ty. In a few instances they may appear inapplica- 
ble, as is the case with the " Nursery Ode," and the 
" Girl of Saint Mary Axe." This, too, is an artful 
contrivance on the part of their respective authors, 
who wisely thought that it was better to insinuate 
praise, than to thrust it under the reader's nose in 
bold and palpable panegyric. Discretion is assured- 
ly as much the better part of compliment as of valor. 

I am apprehensive, however, that the occasional 
warmth of their language may somewhat affect their 
claims to this latter quality. I shall not attempt to 
extenuate the defect. Poets are an imaginative race, 
and a licence is permitted to their fancies, which we 
should deny to the soberer realities of prose. But a 
few of them lie under a far more serious charge than 
the mere exuberance of their praises, and if Mr. S — 
T — C— , when he next puts forth "a psychological 
curiosity," would deign to render it somewhat less cw- 
rious in point of absurdity, both Warren and the 
world would be his debtors. 



2* 



12 INTRODUCTION, 

Before I close tbis introduction I must not omit to 
notice the generous assistance of tbe few friends to 
whom I explained the nature of my connection 
with " Warreniana." Mr. D'Israeli in particular 
claims my eternal thanks for the valuable light that 
he has enabled me to throw (vide Note 6.) on the 
nature and origin of the " lollipop." To the re- 
porter of the Times, for the zeal with which he prof- 
fered to my assistance the parliamentary debate 
upon Warren, I confess equal obligation. Nor must 
Mr. Farley be forgotten, when I reflect that to his un- 
wearied researches I am indebted for the pantomime 
to whose use I have alluded in the notes. 

I have yet to mention my earliest and most rever- 
ed friend, the manufacturer of Blacking. Though 
heretofore noticed as an associate, he is now to be 
commemorated as a coadjutor. Avocations of a pe- 
culiar but promising character engross his present 
leisure ; yet no one acquainted with any publication 
of mine can require to be told, that no part of the 
present work has passed the press without his anx- 
ious revision. But with what rapture do I trace the 
words Robert Warren ! Five and forty springs have 
now passed over my head since 1 first found my friend 
in our little school at his spelling book. During this 
long period our attachment has been without a cloud ; 
the pride of my youth, the delight of my declining 
years. I have followed, with an interest that few 
can feel and none can know, the progress of my 
friend from the humble state of a retail manufac- 



INTRODUCTION. 



13 



turer, to the elevated situation which he has cow at- 
tained, and have beheld each successive advance- 
ment endeared by the approbation of the public. 
But the golden virtues of his character will be the 
theme of other times and other pens ; it is sufficient 
for my happiness to have witnessed at the close of 
a career, prolonged far beyond my expectations, the 
friend and companion of my youth in his present 
dignified capacity, as the Coryphaeus of modern manu- 
facturers. 




WARREN. 

By W. L 



The elements are so mixed up in him, 

That nature may stand boldly forth and say, 

This is a man. Shakspeare, 



The metropolis of England to a stranger, and more 
especially an American, exhibits the varied wonders 
of a fairy -land. Its hoary cathedrals at Westminster 
and Cheapside ; its richly foliaged groves of Kensing- 
ton and Hyde Park, carpeted with the freshest ver- 
dure, and reflecting in added beauty the dazzling 
hues of morn, or the mellowed effulgence of twilight, 
— these and a hundred objects of similar attraction, 
present each to the mind of the traveller a theme 
for unbounded admiration. For the first week of his 
arrival he betrays a wondering ignorance at the al- 
ternate grace and grandeur of each scene or edifice 
he beholds, and broods, with the tenacious eagerness 
of a child, over every fresh source of amusement. He 
visits, with intensest interest, the rival temples of 
Melpomene and Thalia, recalls the Quirinal Hill in 
contemplating the majestic Achilles, and paces, with 
kingly step, the tesselated pavements of Regent 



WARREN. 1 5 

Street. In a few weeks, however, this feverish ec- 
stacy subsides, and he has then sufficient soberness 
of temperament to pay his passing tribute of ap- 
plause to those sweet but unobtrusive nestling 
places, which are consecrated by the recollection 
of living or departed genius. Then it is that he 
visits the Boar's Head at Eastcheap. and, in fancy, 
quaffs his sack with Falslaff; or, with feelings of 
equal enthusiasm, bows before the shrine of Warren^ 
the manufacturer and minstrel of the Strand. 

As for this reverential purpose I was once buying 
a pot of Blacking at Number 30, my attention was 
attracted to a person who was seated in a state of 
deep abstraction behind the counter. He was ad- 
vanced in life, tall, and of a form that might once 
have been commanding, but it was a little bowed by 
care, perhaps by business. He had a noble Roman 
style of countenance, a head that would have pleased 
a painter; and though some slight furrows on either 
side his nose showed that snuff and sorrow bad been 
busy there, yet his eye still beamed with the fire of 
a poetic soul. There was something in his whole 
appearance that indicated a being of a different or- 
der from the bustling shop-boys around him. 

I enquired his name, and was informed that it was 
Warren. I drew back with an involuntary feeling 
of veneration. This, then, was an artist of celebri- 
ty ; this was one of those imaginative spirits whose 
newspaper advertisements have gone forth to the 



1 6 WARREN. 

ends of the earth, and with whose blacking I have 
cleaned my shoes, even in the solitudes of America. 
It was a moment pregnant with emotion ; and though 
the popular graces of his poetry had made me fa- 
miliar with the name of Warren, yet it could not di- 
minish the reverence which his immediate presence 
inspired. 

As I quitted his abode, the recollection of this 
great man gave a tone of deep meditation to my mind. 
I recalled what I had heard of his character, his low- 
ly origin and subsequent elevatiou, his unconquera- 
ble diligence and rich poetic fancy. Nature, I in- 
ternally exclaimed, appears to have disseminated her 
bounties with a more impartial profusion than our 
vanity is willing to allow. If to one favourite she 
has assigned the glittering endowments of rank and 
fortune, she has compensated the want of them in 
another by an intellect of superior elevation. Such 
has been the case with Mr. Warren. Though hum- 
ble in origin, and suckled amid scenes repulsive to 
the growth of mind, he has yet contrived to hew him- 
self a path to the Temple of Fame, and having be- 
come the poetical paragon of the Strand, has turned 
the whole force of his genius to manufacture and to 
eulogise his blacking. This prudent concentration 
of his faculties has been attended with the most feli- 
citous consequences. The stream of his fancy, that 
before flowed over a wide ungrateful surface, by con- 
tracting its channel has deepened its power, and now 
rolls onward to the ocean of eternity, reflecting on 
its bosom the rich lights of poesy and wit. 



WARREN. 



17 



Independently, however, ©f his imagination, this 
mighty manufacturer has shown how much may be 
effected by diligence alone, and how attractive it 
may present itself in the columns of a newspaper, 
the placards of a pedestrian, or the sides of a church- 
yard wall. The memoranda of his name and profes- 
sion display themselves in alphabetical beauty, at 
every department of the metropolis. They have el- 
bowed Doctor Solomon's Elixir, pushed Day and Mar- 
tin from their stools, and taken the wall of that in- 
teresting anomaly, the Mermaid. Such is the tri- 
umph of genius. Doctor Solomon is dead and gone, 
and there is no balm in Gilead ; but Warren's Black- 
ing will be immortal. Its virtues will ensure it eter- 
nity ; for not only doth it irradiate boots, shoes, and 
slippers with a gentle and oleaginous refulgence, but 
while it preserves the leather, it cherishes, like pie- 
ty, the old and stricken sole. 

In America we know Mr. Warren only as the 
tradesman ; in Europe, Asia, and Africa, he is spo- 
ken of as the poet : and at the Canaries, on my 
voyage to England, I was told by a Hottentot of his 
having been unfortunate in love. (1)1 was sensibly af- 
flicted at the intelligence, but felt that the illustrious 
invalid was far, far above the reach of pity. There 
are some lofty minds that soar superior to calamity, 
as the Highlands of the Hudson tower above the 
clouds of earth. Warren has a soul of this stamp. 
His majestic spirit may feel, but will not bow before 
the strong arm of adversity. The blighting winds 



1 8 WARREN. 

of care may howl around him in their fury, but 
like the oak of the forest he will stand unshaken to 
the last. Besides, it may, perhaps, be to this very 
accident, that his advertisements owe their charm ; 
for the mind, when breathed over by the scathing 
mildew of calamity, naturally tut ns for refreshment 
to its own healing stores of intellect. 

I do not wish to censure, but surely — surely, if the 
commercial residents of the Strand had been pro- 
perly sensible of what was due to Mr. Warren and 
themselves, they would have evinced some public 
mark of sympathy with his misfortune. They would 
have shown him those gentle and unobtrusive atten- 
tions which win their way in silence to the heart, 
when the more noisy professions of esteem stick like 
Amen in the larynx of Macbeth. Even I, stranger 
and sojourner as I am in the land, can heave the sigh of 
pity for his sorrows ; what then should be the sensi- 
bility of those who have seen him grow up a bantling, 
as it were, of their own ; who have marked the plant 
put forth its first tender blossoms, and watched its 
growing luxuriance, until the period when it over- 
shadowed the Strand with the matured abundance of 
its foliage ? 

But it is an humbling reflection for the pride of 
human intellect, that the value of an object is seldom 
felt until it be for ever lost. Thus, when the grave 
has closed around him, the name of Warren may be 
possibly recalled with sentiments of sincerest affec- 



WARREN. 1 9 

tion. At present, while yet in existence, he is un- 
dervalued by an invidious vicinity. But the man of 
letters who speaks of the Strand, speaks of it as the 
residence of Warren. The intelligent traveller who 
visits it, enquires where Warren is to be seen. He 
is the literary landmark of the place, indicating its 
existence to the distant scholar. He is like Pompey's 
column at Alexandria, towering alone in classic dig- 
nity. 



OLD CUMBERLAND PEDLAR. 

By W. W. 



SUMMARY OF CONTENTS. 

A summer afternoon. The Solitary (i. e. author) seats 
himself on a bank of buttercups with Johanna, Goody Blake, 
Tims, Stokes, and some others beside him ; informs them that 
he shall not drink tea till half past eight, and that as it is 
now only seveu o'clock, he has got one hour and a half left for 
conversation. Solitary accordingly describes his excursion 
some years ago among the mountains, where he saw Warren's 
name engraved upon the rocks. Philosophical reflections upon 
Warren's Blacking. Solitary then commences the tale of Peter 
Bell ; describes how he blew his nose among the mountains, and 
how the mountains sent back an echo— Catalogue of mountains 
engaged in the chorus. Solitary proceeds to detail the particu- 
lars of his interview with Bell, who, it seems, was a travelling 
pedlar to the firm of Robert Warren, 30, Strand. Eulogium on 
Robert and his Blacking. Solitary goes on to say that Bell and 
himself walked together towards Rydal, but that on the road he 
was bitten on the nose by a gnat. Meditations on a gnat-bite. 
Solitary closes his account of the Pedlar, and gives good advice 
to his little friends, Goody Blake, Johanna, Stokes & Co. Stokes 
indecent. (2) Solitary admonishes him to tie up the knee- 
strings of his breeches, and informs bim that Goody Blake has 



OLD CUMBERLAND PEDLAR. 21 

ibeen peeping for the last half- hour. Stokes ties up his knee- 
strings, and the poem is concluded by the Solitary exhorting the 
juvenile audience to "buy Warren's Blacking." 



George Fisher, Goody Blake, and Betty Foy, 
Johanna, Matthew, Tims, and you too, Stokes, 
Come, sit ye down upon this bank of fresh 
But bilious buttercups : 'tis scarcely seven, 
And I shall not drink tea till half-past eight, 
Or peradventure nine, so that one hour, 
One sober hour remains for converse sweet. 
You all knew Peter Bell, the pedlar, he 
Was a hale man and honest, and each spring 
What time the cuckoo carolled in the hedge, 
Would seek our simple villages, to vend 
His patron's wares — of him I now would speak j; 
And while yon grave, 'neath which his ashes sleep, 
Feeds in the fattening twilight, 1 will tell 
An incident that once befell us both 
Among the rocks by steep Helvellyn's side. 

It chanced one summer morn I passed the clefts 
Of Silver-How, and turning to the left, 
Fast by the blacksmith's shop, two doors beyond 
Old Stubb's, the tart-woman's, approached a glen 
Secluded as a coy nun from the world. 
Beauteous it was but lonesome, and while I 
Leaped up for joy to think that earth was good 
And lusty in her boyhood, I beheld 



VZ OLD CUMBERLAND PEDLAR. 

Graven on the tawny rock these magic words, 
" Buy Warren's Blacking ;" then in thought I said, 
My stars, how we improve ! (3) Amid these scenes 
Where hermit nature, jealous of the world, 
Guards from profane approach her solitude ; 
E'en here, despite each fence, adventurous art 
Thrusts her intrusive puffs ; as though the rocks 
And waterfalls were mortals, and wore shoes. 

That morn I lost my breakfast, but returning 
Home through the New Cut by Charles Fleming's 

field 
Westward of Rydal Common, and below 
The horse-pond, where our sturdy villagers 
Duck all detected vagrants, I espied 
A solitary stranger ; like a snail 
He wound along his narrow course with slow 
But certain step, and lightly as he paced, 
Drew from the deep Charybdis of his coat, 
What seemed to my dim eyes a handkerchief, 
And forthwith blew his nose : the adjacent rocks, 
Like something starting from a hurried sleep, 
Took up the snuffling twang and blew again. 
That ancient woman seated on Helm-crag 
Was ready with her cavern ; Hammar-scar, 
And the tall steep of Silver-How sent back 
Their nasal contributions ; Lougbrigg heard, 
And Fair-field answered with a mountain tone. 

The old man paused to listen, but when ceased 
This mountainous bravura, on his staff 



OLD CUMBERLAND PEDLAR, %& 

He bowed bis palsied head la compliment 

To my approach ; " My God ! 'tis Peter Bell," 

I cried aloud ; " how fare you, my good friend ?" 

Then thus the pedlar spake : " Oddsniggers, sir,'' 

I use his very words, "full twenty years 

Have past since you and I held talk together, 

So now let's chat a bit." With that he spake 

Familiarly of me and of old times, 

And of grand sights that he had seen since last 

We roved through Hammar-scar ; how he had dwelt 

Long with a mighty merchant in the Strand, 

Higbt Warren, and was travelling to grave 

His name upon each rock, that when the hinds 

Passed by that way, their speculative eyes 

Might linger on the carved advertisement. 

He added, that this merchant was a man, 

Like those of Tyre and Sidon, glorified 

By the wide universe, and that his name 

Was honoured among nations ,* he was one 

Who sprang from nothing, like a mountain rill, 

Till widening in its course the ambitious stream 

Of his good fortune poured a tide of wealth 

Into the sea of Number thirty, Strand. 

When Peter ended, I proposed a walk 
To Rydal, for the day was fresh with youth, 
And thousand burnished insects on the wing, 
The bee, the butterfly, and humming gnat, 
Flew swift as years of childhood o'er our heads. 
Touching these gnats, I could not choose but feel, 
When I had walked, perhaps, some minutes' space? 



24 OLD CUMBERLAND PEDLAR. 

The venomous superficies of a pimple, 

On the left side my nose : 'twas streaked with hues 

Of varied richness, like a summer eve ; 

And edged, as is the thunder-cloud, with tints 

Albescent, and alarming to the eye. — 

It was a gnat-bite ! ! On the previous eve, 

When, rapt in thought by lone Helvellyn's side, 

My fancy slept ; this unrelenting insect 

Marking his hour, had borne me company, 

And tweaked a memorandum on my nose. 

Thus nature warns her sons, and when their 
thoughts 
Aspire too boldly, or their soaring minds 
Elope with truant fancy from the flesh, 
Their lawful spouse, she spurns the gross affront, 
And sends a gnat to tell them they are clay. 
My spirit owned her chastening hand, and gazed 
On heath and hill, and sunless glen and rock, 
In lowliness of heart, while pitying heaven, 
As it approved th' offender's penitence, 
Looked down upon me with an eye of love — 
An eye of love it was, but Peter Bell, 
(Antique pedestrian,) felt the gracious charm 
O'erflow his soul no longer ; he was clad 
In thick buff waistcoat, cotton pantaloons 
I* th' autumn of their life, and wore beside 
A drab great coat, on whose pearl buttons beamed 
The beauty of the morning ; as we strolled, 
I could not choose but ask his age, assured 



OLD CUMBERLAND PEDLAR, £5 

That he was seventy-five at least, and though 
He did not own it, I'm convinced he was. 

That hour hath long since past, and the old man 
Peter is with his fathers ; but at eve. 
When mid the deepening hush of winds I rove 
Along that mountain glen, where erst he blew 
His vocal nose, the memory of his talk 
Floodeth my spirit with a freshening stream 
Of bygone thoughts ; then too I call to mind 
The fame of Warren, and reflect how wit, 
Albeit in commerce, will attain respect 
And glory from the nations ; therefore, friends — 
(Tie up the knee-strings of your breeches, Stokes, 
For shocked am I that Betty Foy should see 
Coy nature peeping through your ragged hose)-— 
Still be the name of Warren in your mouths, 
His blacking in your cottages, and still 
Let the example of his industry 
Fall, like a genial shadow from the West, 
Upon your minds ; and when in after years 
You strive to prison Mammon in your purse 
By various traffic, think how Warren rose 
By punctual payments ; for believe me, friends, 
That in commercial contact with the world, 
A tradesman's tick, is a tick-douloureux. 
Incurable by all, save those who bear, 
Like Henry Hase, a sovereign remedy. 



WARREN IN FAIRY LAND. 
By J. H. 



Bonnie Rob Warren gaed up the lang glen — 

2 Twas on Saturday last, at a quarter to ten — 

The morn was still, and the sky was blue, 

And the clouds were robed in their simmer hue, 

And the leaf on the elm looked green as the sea 

When it sleepeth in brief tranquillity ; 

And over and under, o'er muirland and grove, 

Earth whispered o' peace, and heaven o' love. 

Drowsy wi' porter, and scant o' breath, 

Warren reclined him on Hampstead Heath ; 

The lark in mid-air douce melody made, 

And the wind through the bushes in silence strayed ; 

And the cuckoo, herald of infant spring, 

Soothed his ear wi' her welcoming ; 

Till rapt in reverie strange and deep* 

Bonnie Rob Warren fell fast asleep. 

He dreamed that fairies beside him lay, 
And beckoned him on to a far pathway, 
Whar the earth was paved wi' gowd and gems, 
And clustering jewels hung wild on their stems ; 
Whar birds frae the blossom, and sylphs frae the sky* 
Carolled his name as they past him by; 



WARREN IN FAIRY LAND. %'i 

And fairy maidens o' dazzling sheen, 

Sae gentle in nature and peerless in mien, 

Sune as they kenned him, began to speir, 

Wi' " Bonnie Hob Warren, you're welcome here." 

Then fluttered they round him in mazy rings, 
Ilk to the sound of her rustling wings, 
Frae their light foot-fall wee flowers arose, 
And buttercups blossomed aneath their nose ; 
And a fountain welled at their awfu' call, 
Through caller pavilion and magic hall. 
And anon shot up, frae its sonsie brink 9 
Showers of blacking as sable as ink. — 
Then turned they to left, and turned they to right, 
Breasting the breeze frae a sense o' delight, 
Then shot they through air like a thought through 

the brain- 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! they are trooping amain ; 
Warren and wizard in ebon car, 
Wi' faces as fierce as a whiskered hussar. 
Day closed ere they reached their journey's end, 
And wi' buirdly footsteps 'gan to ascend 
A palace as crowded as Fleet-street mart, 
And called in heaven " the Palace of Art," 
Whar the grit in science on earth below, 
Make, as the pugilists term it, "a show," 
And enjoy unfading in heaven again 
The honours they reaped 'mid the sons o' men, 
Sune as the fairies and Warren drew near, 
Shouts rung through the magical atmosphere, 



Zti WARREN IN FAIRY LAND. 

The gates o* the palace flew open and wide, 
And weird manufacturers side by side, 
Welcomed the tradesman wi' trumpet and ca\ 
And throned him aloft in the midst o' them a'. 
Abune him an elfin empress shone. 
The fairest that ever the earth looked on, 
She gave him a telescope winsome and bright, 
And cannily bade him recruit his sight, 
Wi* the fame he wad gain in after times, 
For the strength of his blacking and force of his 
rhymes. 

He look'd, and aneath him lay merrie England ; 
JVlen rushed frae a' quarters towards the Strand, 
For close whar as yet Saint Clement's is seen, 
A temple superb, and refulgent o' mien, 
Arrested the e'e wi' these words on its gate, 
"Erected in honor of Warren the great ;" 
Then bowed at this modern Saint Becket's shrine, 
Prince, peasant, and peer, as to something divine ; 
The organ struck up, you might hear it a mile, 
And chiels in white surplices chonissed the while 
Wee Braham's great grandson au anthem concocted, 
Whilk the feelings of a' maist affectingJy shock did ; 
For virgins and widows, wives, peasants, and peers, 
Were up to their knees in a deluge o' tears. 

He looked again, and the scene was new — 
Lang African deserts rose high on his view, 
And he kenned beneath him a winding Cape 
With its Hottentot callants sae matchless in shape; 



WARREN IN FAIRY LAND* 29 

The Cape it was peopled wi' city and town, 
The Hottentots adepts in fashion were grown ; 
And bucks frae the Nile wi' braw coats on their ■*> 
backs, f 

And douce inexpressibles lengthy and lax, £ 

Like those whilko'night may be seen at Almack's ; J 
Through the towns o'the Cape strutted deftly alang, 
Beguiling their lounge with an opera sang, 
Whilk the Nile echoed back, as if proud to impart 
To the praises o' Warren the tunes o' Mozart. 
The tradesman beheld a' these dandy adults, 
Wi' their hessians of Hoby and trowsers of Stultz, 
And knew that his blacking, more black than the 

berry, 
Lent grace to the boots of each Cape Tom and Jer- 
ry. (4) 

He looked again, and the scene was new — 
The Moslem dominions rose high on his view; 
But the domes o' the prophet, the glittering mosk, 
The temples o' Mecca, Medina's kiosk, 
Nae longer the soul o' devotion attacking, 
Were changed to bazaars for Rob Warren's jet black- 
ing J 
Each Turk too eschewed his red slippers and sandals, 
Mair fit for the ancles o' Goths or o' Vandals, 
And wore in their stead our trim protestant suits, 
Fause collars and high polished Wellington boots. 

He looked again, and the scene was new — 
Spitzbergen's mirk regions rose high on his view ; 



30 WARREN IN FAIRY LAND. 

But sullen as death was ilk ice-girdled coast, 

For winter walked o'er it wi' tempest and frost, 

And the wind in reply to the hollow wave's raoau, 

Sate on his rock and gave groan for groan. 

Rob Warren glow'red over Ibis warld wi' dismay, 

Till far frae the distance in gallant array, 

A merchantman's bark shot along the blue sea, 

Like a wean in the height of its innocent glee. 

Oh ! brawly she danced o'er the billows sae bright, 

And flashed on the eye like a thing o' delight; 

While the natives rushed doon frae their hills to the 

shore, 
To buy the rich freightage that brave vessel bore. 
'Twas Warren's jet blacking the merchantmen 

brought, 
'Twas Warren's jet blacking they puffed (as they 

ought) ; 
Ilk Esquimaux rubbed it o'er sandal and shoon, 
Whilk it polished as bright as the braw harvest moon ; 
And roared, as he rubbed it, wi' barbarous glee, 
" Hey, Sirs, a douce chiel this Rob Warren maun be." 

The vision ceased, and the elfin queen 
Upturned to the tradesman her bonny blue e'en, 
And bade ilka stainless and sylphid miss 
Welcome him hame wi' a dance and a kiss. 

They caught him fast by the breeches and coat, 
As spiders a blue-bottle grasp by the throat ; 
They caught him fast by the coat and the breeches. 
As holy Saint Anthony fingered the witches, 



WARREN IN FAIRY LAND. 3l 

And tauld him wV unco 9 smiles and glee 

How time, as yet unborn, wad be 

When Turner and daft Day and Martin sold fall, 

And bonnie Rob Warren be all in all. 

Then danced they around him, each beautiful one ; 

Their raiments o' siller shone bright in the sun; 

For the women were clad in star«colored frocks, 

And the men in black silk stockings and clocks. 

Wae's me that I canna, I maunna reveal, 
How fondly they kiss'd him, lad, lassie, and chiel, 
How lang they caressed him and pressed him to stay, \ 
Until, as dun night saddened over the day, £ 

Each sweet fairy countenance faded away. — j 

Then Warren awoke frae his awfu' sleep, 
The shadows abune him grew dusky and deep, 
Where tinselPd wi' twilight and gemmed wi' dew, j 
Lay the heath primrose and the violet blue, > 

Fresh as the spring, and as beautiful too. ? 

The humming bee slept in the apple bloom, 
The whistling hind sought his cottage home, 
And the west wind, purest of a' that blows, 
Made fond acquaintance wi' lily and rose ; 
For under the rose and aneath the night's shade, 
Sounds sweetest the music o' love's serenade. 

When mony an hour had come and gone, 
Frae half past ten till a quarter to one, 
When the dinner had waited baith roast and boiled, 
And the cauld leg o' mutton and turnips were spoiled ; 

4 



32 WARREN IN FAIRY LAND. 

Late, late in the gloaming when a' was still, 

But the tramp o* night-teddies up Ludgate-hill, 

Frae Hampstead Heath, i' the flush of his fame, 

To the Strand, Number 30. Rob Warren came hame, 

And oh ! his beauty was fair to see. 

And gay was his spirit and lightsome his e'e, 

As he spak o' the wonderful things he had seen, 

In a land whar sorrow had never been ; 

Whar, spite o' the fairies, in palace or hall, 

He was the fairest abune them all ; 

And sweet to feel and blythe to say, 

Suld thrive in the warld's esteem for aye.— 

Now lang live a' those whae hae money to lend, 
And lang live a' those wha have ony to spend ; 
And lang live a' those wha hae gowd to receive, 
And ditto to those wha have ony to give ; 
Provided, that lang as 'tis likely to sell, 
They'll buy Warren's Blacking, and puff it as well. 



A NURSERY ODE, 

By L. H. 






N. B. The following Nursery Ode was originally written fop 
private circulation, and transmitted, together with an ounce 
of crisp gingerbread-nuts, to my little acquaintance, John 
Warren, junior, by way of a birth-day present. As, how- 
ever, the Editor of this Volume, to whom it was shown by 
the father, imagined that it might be serviceable in promot- 
ing the interests of his Work, it is here numbered among the 
collection, 



Ah, little ranting Johnny ! 
For ever blythe and bonny, 
And singing heigho, nonny ! 
Come, you rogue, to me now, 
And sit upon my knee now, 
While in thought we rove 
Through clipsome Lisson Grove*, 
Where the blackbird singeth 
And the daisy springeth, 
And the Naiads tie, 
AH underneath the sky, 



34 A NURSERY ODE. 

Their garters with crisp posies 
Of daffodils and roses. 
Johnny, Johnny, Johnny ! 
Fie ! oh fie upon ye ! 
Thus to teaze your nunkey, 
You good-for-nothing monkey; 
Thus to pull and swale 
His perriwig and tail, 
And throw, with cunning glee, 
Tobacco in his tea. 
There—but words are vain, John- 
There you go again, John; 
Now perked up in a corner, 
Like jaunty Jacky Horner ; 
Now clambering up the chimney 
With springy step and slim knee, 
Till, open-mouthed, you whip down 
An ounce of soot; then slip down, 
And run to daddy, crying — 
•' Odzooks, papa, I'm dying :" (5) 
Or else, with glib intention, 
You puzzle your invention 
To joke us ; first you weep, John, 
And snore as if asleep, John ; 
Then up you jump and cry out — 
" Oh Christ, I've poked my eye out!' 
When lo ! directly after, 
You turn us into laughter. 

Well, poppet, though you bore us 
With one eternal chorus; 



A NURSERY ODE. 35 

Of Iiarum scarurn divo, 

Tag rag and genitivo; 

And though, you tricksy wizard, 

You daily stuff your gizzard 

With sugar-plums of full size, 

And lollipops and bulls'-eyes, (6) 

The Muse, through me, shall shed, now. 

Her blessings on your head, now. 

May your hours of childhood, 
Like roses in a wild wood, 
Shed native sweets around you, 
Till sunny thoughts surround you; 
And when by twilight still 
You roam o'er Primrose-Hill, 
Or when, by midnight dark, 
You cross the Regent's Park, 
May Pan, with eye so brightsome 9 
And cock-up nose so lightsome. 
Tell you tales of tree-gods, 
Of river and of sea-gods ; 
As how from lover's lay 
Daphne stole away ; 
How by Tempos fountain 
She ran, and Pindus* mountain, 
While chesnut, vine, and hop-leaf 
Rung aloud with " Stop thief!" 
And, to love a martyr, 
Apollo followed arter ; (7) 
Or how that Colchian witch, 
In Jason's friendship rich, 
4 * 



36 A NURSERY ODE. 

Her father dared to whip in 
A monstrous earthen pipkin, (8) 
To boil him up with Iamb 
And caper-sauce and ham, 
And then, as I'm a sinner, 
To dish him up for dinner ! 

Your father, too, my own John, 
We'll not let him alone, John, 
But, with prophetic glee, 
Declare how time will be 
When nations shall proclaim 
The triumphs of his fame, 
And story pile on story 
In honour of his glory. 
So now good night, my Johnny; 
Put your night-cap on ye ; (5) 
And mind, you little jewel, 
Mind you drink your gruel, 
Or else, despite your tears, John, 
Papa will box your ears, John. 



DIGRESSION 

ON 

THE FAMILY OF WARREN 

AT THE TIME OF THE CRUSADES. (10) 

By C. M. 



The encounter between the Latin and the Mos- 
lem world, which for several centuries darkened the 
moral and political aspect of society, is relieved by 
few glimmerings of intellectual light. Nature re- 
coils with horror from the cruelties, and with shame 
from the habitual folly and senselessness, which 
marked the prosecution of the sanguinary and vain- 
glorious contest. Yet, in wandering over the gloomy 
expanse of fanaticism and crime, the diligent histo- 
rian may discover some fairer traces of the human 
mind ; and his philosophic eye will contemplate with 
pleasure at least one episode in the first crusade. I 
imitate, with pride and satisfaction, the example of a 
great authority in rescuing from oblivion the early 
fortunes of a noble bouse, whose foundations were 
planted on the shores of Asia. But I am, in one re- 
spect, happier than my great precursor in the subjeet 



38 DIGRESSION OS THE 

of the present digression, which I propose to append 
to the next edition of my work : I am not called 
upon to blush for t^e degeneracy of the family whose 
founder has engaged my attention. My labours are 
refreshed by the conviction, that while his achieve- 
ments ennoble my task, the immortality of my pages 
will neither be sullied nor depreciated by the dis- 
grace and decay of his illustrious descendants. 

I pretend not to develop the origin of Michael de 
la Warene, but I can colled from a j June and anony- 
mous chronicler, that he ha d filled with spotless in- 
tegrity a station in the 1' usehold of Robert Curthose 3 
Duke of Normandy. The voluptuous Robert has 
been commended or reproached for the luxurious 
hospitality of his board, and a long train of culinary 
vassals swelled the wasteful extravagance of his pa- 
lace. The classical reader will be interested in the 
fact that the Apician precepts were understood and 
practised by his cook, Peter de la Warene : and Mi- 
chael, the friend and cousin of Peter (they were bro- 
ther's sons), followed his lord to the East. But the 
careless Robert was unable (so great was his poverty) 
to arm his retainers, and the gravity of history is 
disturbed by the assurance that Michael de la Warene 
was equipped from the armoury of the kitchen. But 
the cousin of the cook was superior to the caprices of 
accident, and the stewpan, the jack-chain, and the 
spit, were converted by the resources of genius into 
the helmit, the chain armour, and the lance of kuight- 
hood. Before the towers of Antioch the follower of 
Curthose proved the gallantry of bis spirit and the 



FAMILY OF WARREN. 39 

excellence of his burnished arms, and the admiration 
of the croises acknowledged with plaudits the merit 
of Michael the Polisher. 

I shall not pause to repeat my narrative of the 
sufferings of the Franks in their passage through Asia 
Minor ; but I may be permitted to relate a melancho- 
ly instance of the extent of their misery. In the 
march over the burning deserts of Phrygia, the army 
were oppressed with the accumulated horrors of 
drought and hunger. Food was utterly extinct : bare 
extremities were preferred to starvation, and the 
leather breeches and boots of the horsemen were sa- 
crificed to the common necessities of the host. The 
polisher condescended with tears to his pristine voca- 
tion. His culinary skill was employed in converting 
his own boots into a meal for his lord, and Curthose, 
regarding with unfeeling merriment the naked legs 
of his vassal, declared his wonder that leather could 
furnish so exquisite a repast. But fidelity to a liege 
lord was regarded by the simplicity of the times as 
the highest exertion of virtue, and Michael (I repeat 
the language of the chronicler) was comforted by St. 
George in a dream, with the promise that the leather 
which he had sacrificed should become the type or 
greatness to his latest descendants. His faithful dog, 
once the turnspit of the ducal palace, and now the 
carrier of his baggage*, slept by his side ; and the 

* See my enumeration of the sumpter animals of the crusaders 
vol. i. p. 147. •* goats, hogs, and dogs." But I cannot discover 
that these last were generally turnspits. 



40 DIGRESSION ON THE 

astonished Norman beheld him flayed by the knife of 
the saint, and Celt his own legs wrapped in the reek- 
ing hide of the sufferer. 

But the vision of the booted warrior was disturbed 
by rude alarums, and, waking on the cry that the foe 
were at hand, he sprang on his destrier to await the 
hostile shock. Countless myriads of the infidels ri- 
valled in immensity the sands of the desert before 
him, and the wearied and unshodden croises despair- 
ed of their safety and cause. The wisdom of the 
pious Godfrey, the daring of Tancred, and the skill of 
the wily Bohamond were not seconded by the 
courage of their trembling followers. The foot- 
soldiers concealed their cowardice by the pretence 
that they were unable to march without shoes. 

Peter the Hermit declared that he had vowed to 
proceed only as far as his sandals might carry him ; 
and they were no more. Walter the Pennyless (he, 
too, was bootless) appealed to the wear of his soles 
to excuse his pusillanimity ; and the army were scan- 
dalised by the report that Curthose himself was de- 
tained in his tent by feigned indigestion. <f Behold !" 
exclaimed the Polisher aloud to the degenerate and 
astonished Latins, " Behold the boots of St. George I 
Do you fear to follow the saint !" The army caught 
the animating cry : courage was renovated by super- 
stition; St. George himself was recognised in the 
hairy and unearthly apparition which rushed on the 
infidel host, and thousands of the slaughtered Moslems 
attested the belief that his aid had effected the vic- 
tory of the croises. The lance of the Polisher was 



FAMILY OF WARREN. 41 

impelled with terrific vigour; but his valour was not 
tempered with the gentler virtue of mercy to the 
vanquished. One hundred and twenty-three infidels 
knelt for pity before him, but he cruelly put them all 
to death, and afterwards roasted them alive.* 

The sou! of Michael was cast in the mould of ho- 
nour, and he did not conceal from the army that if the 
saint had booted him, the turnspit at least had pro- 
vided the materials. The information was fatal to 
the dogs : the croises were once more supplied with 
leather, and the march was joyfully resumed. But 
the Polisher had reaped the fruits of experience ; and 
when hunger again overtook the camp, and Curthose 
supplicated for a second dinner at his hands^ he re- 
spectfully protested that his conscience would not 
permit him to expose his lord to the repeated pains 
of indigestion, and the loss of martial renown. But 
we are assured by his simple chronicler that in this 
he designed, not to preserve his boots, but to save the 
reputation of his superior. 

I regret that I cannot follow the honourable ca- 
reer of the Polisher to the consummation of the great 
Latin expedition. He died in the arms of victory be- 
fore its conclusion ; but his memory was embalmed 
by the tears of the Latin kingdom of Palestine, and 
three sons, the offspring of his union with a noble 

* We have found that Bohamond went even farther than 
this: — he pursued the same singular plan of roasting the dead 
alive, and afterwards ate them. See my first edition vol. i p» 
175. I repent that I have since altered this striking passage, 



42 ON THE FAMILY OF WARREN. 

Greek, valiantly maintained the reputation of his 
house. Of these the eldest entered the order of the 
Hospitallers, the second married and settled in the 
East, but the youngest, Robert, the inheritor of his 
father's virtues and boots, and the progenitor of the 
illustrious line of the English Warrens, returned with 
Curthose to Europe, and finally established himself 
in our island. The toilsome march through Italy and 
France deprived his boots of their hair, but he dis- 
covered in the latter country the new and extraordi- 
nary art of preserving them from the destroying hand 
of time by a black and shining external preparation. 
Enriching the paternal distinction with a new sir- 
name, Robert Black-boots, the Polisher, obtained 
from our first Henry the grant of lands on the present 
site of the Strand of the British metropolis, and be- 
queathed to his children as a commou heir-loom the 
dogskin leather of St. George. 

We may hesitate to adopt the belief of a rude age 
that Blackboots was indebted to the saint himself for 
the discovery of the composition which had preserved 
this proud relic to his modern descendants ; but the 
historian will not be justified in concealing from 
the curious enquirer the existence of a singular tradi- 
tion. On his death-bed Robert Blackboots the Po- 
lisher anticipated the present grandeur of his house, 
and foretold that a Robert de la Warene, (the Warren 
of the corruption or change of our tongue) should be- 
nefit and surprise the world with the discovery that 
boots in general may be rendered as dark and as po- 
lished—perhaps too as durable— as the Black-boots 
of Stt George himself. 



CARMEN TRIUMPHALE. 
By R. S. 



Last eve as I sate id my room that looks o'er the 

church of Saint Clement, 
(Nota Bene : I had but of late arrived in town upon 

business,) 
I ordered my boots for a walk, my boots that polished 

and pointed, 
Bright on their surface display the beauty of Warren's 

jet blacking: 
Now you must know that my man, in his speed to 

reply to my summons, 
Brought me my Wellington boots, but never once 

thought of the boot-hooks ; 
So to allay my spleen by calm and ennobling reflec- 
tions, 
Such as might wile the time disturb'd by my valet's 

omission, 
I sate me down in a chair, and thus apostrophised 

Warren. 
4€ Pontiff of modern art ! whose name is as noted as 

mine is, 
Noted for talent and skill, and the cardinal virtues of 

manhood^ 
5 



44 CARMEN TR1UMPHALE. 

Receive this tribute of praise from one whose applause 

is an honour. 
I am he who sang of Roderick, the last of the Goths, 

and 
Gothic enough it was, I'm told, in metre and mean- 
ing; 
Thalaba too was mine, that wild and wondrous effu- 
sion, 
Madoc and Joan of Arc, and the splendid curse of 

Kehama ; 
If I then, the author of these and other miraculous 

volumes, 
And a laurell'd bard to boot, laud thee, oh my 

Warren, in epic 
Terse, both peasant and peer will echs thy name 

o'er the West end, 
And thus shall it be with the man whon* S*— *-j 

delighteth to honour. — 
Already I hear thy puffs discussed in the circle at 

Almack's, 
Busking with sable shade the light of the Scotch 

Ariosto i 
Already I hear them arranged for the violincello by 

Smart, and 
Melting on syren lips in lieu of Italian bravuras : 
Braham at Drury Lane, the Stephens at proud Covent 

Garden, 
Dwell on each soul-stirring rhyme as a lover dwells 

on the moonlight, 
When by its virgin beam his nymph hurries onward 

to kiss him. 



CARMEN TRIUMPHALE* 45 

" Through thee in the season of spring, oh pride of 

the modern creation ! ! ! 
Beauty sets off by night each grace of her whirligig 

ankle, 
When to the music of harps in dulcet symphonies 

sounding, 
She waltzes with twinkling twirl, and butterfly bucks 

hover round her ; 
Thee she hails as a friend, while her pumps, in the 

pride of their polish, 
Illume the ball-room floor like the slippers of famed 

Cinderella. — 
In Brighton thy name is known, and waxeth important 

at Cheltenham ; 
Travels per coach to Bath, that exceedingly beautiful 

city ; 
Thence crossing the channel to Wales, it stirs up 

attention at Swansea ; 
Or flees with the speed of a dove o'er the mountainous 

ridges of Snowden, 
Till valley, and rock, and glen, ring aloud with * Buy 

Warren's Blacking.* 

44 But not unto Britain alone is thy fame, Robert 

Warren, confined : o'er 
The civilised regions of Europe, believe me, 'tis 

equally honoured ; 
For when, as proof of the fact, I rambled through 

Switzerland lately, 
And, spent with the labour of travel, put up in the 

vale of Chamounv, 



46 CARMEN TRIUMPHALE. 

My boots by the waiter were bathed in the lurainosi;* 

dew of thy blacking : 
This, as you well may guess, astonished iny nerves 

not a little ; 
So, flaming with zeal, I said, < Now tell me, oh waiter, 

I pray thee, 
Th' extent of this tradesman's fame in the vales of 

the Switzer, that straight I 
May note it down as a hint for some future edition of 

travels 
Then blythe the waiter assured me, that thorough 

Chamouny, the splendour 
Of Warren's name beamed joy, as the snow on the 

summit of Jura, 
Tinged by the Occident ray, sheds glory and gladness 

around it, 
While villages bask in its smiles : — meantime I con- 
tinue my carmen. — 
Thrice honoured artist, who hast a minstrel like me 

to commend thee ! 
Year upon year may roll, but you never will get such 

another ; 
For I am the bard of time, the puffer of peer or of 

peasant, 
Whether Russ, German, or French, Whig, Radical, 

Ultra, or Tory, 
Provided my sack-butt is paid with a butt of sack for 

each bouncer. 
Hence, nobles are proud to bow to my laurelled head 

at Saint James's, 



CARMEN TRIUMPHALE. 47 

Deeming his Majesty's grace dispensed through me, 

for they well know 
His Majesty loves in his heart my political creed. 

[Not a Bene, 
I will not swear that he does ; but is it not likely, oh 

Europe ?)" 

Here I concluded my stave, for my valet return'd 

with my boot-hooks ; 
So taking my hat in my hand, a remarkably requisite 

practice, 
f sought that widening gulf where the Strand with a 

murmur susurrous 
Flows into Pall Mall east, like Thames at the Nore 

into ocean : 
Here I stood rapt awhile, commending the buildings 

around me, 
Especially Waterloo Place, with which I was highly 

delighted; \ 

Till hearing the clock strike eight, I returned to my 

Strand habitation, 

And heard the bell from St. Clement's toll, toll 
through the silence of evening. 



THE 

TRIUMPH OF WARREN, 

A CAMBRIDGE PRIZE POEM, 

By C. H. T. 



As when young day first blushes in the skies, 
Each virgin flowret starts with glad surprise, 
Thus when the name of Warren greets the eye, 
Thrills with angelic bliss each passer-by, 
More proud than king Belshazzar to recal 
The scroll inscribed on Media's festive wall. 
Illustrious sage ! thy name from pole to pole 
Darts from the eye electric to the soul ; 
Star, Post, and Globe, the Courier, and the Times* 
Attest thy fame^ and circulate thy rhymes ; 
While in thy deep Pactolian pockets glow 
Rich streams of gold, that jingle as they flow. 

Descend, ye Nine ! inspire this classic verse. 
As Warren's rise enraptured I rehearse ; 
Paint in apt phrase his scientific mind — 
Ah, bootless task ! The Muse in wing confined, 



i'HE TRIUMPH OF WARREN. 49 

Resigns th' ambitious essay with a sigb ? 

For vain thy task, impossibility. 

Thus when the two straight lengthened lines, A B, 

Pant to incarcerate an inner C, 

A chases B, and B flies after A, 

As bailiff hunts poetic runaway; 

But vain their points ad infinitum race, 

For two straight lines can ne'er inclose a space. (11) 

Here halt we, Muse, nor alien themes prolong, 

Alien alike to Warren and to song. 

Time was when dulness, with Bseotian sway, 
Dimmed the faint sun of Albion's earlier day, 
Checked art's advance, and bade aspiring worth 
Unhonoured fade like things of baser earth; 
Then fashion's radiance scorn'd th' ignoble heel, 
And sable shoes twirl'd darkling in the reel ; 
No prurient polish lit the ball-room floor, 
With fatuus flash from instep of threescore ; 
All — all was gloom, and dandies in the dumps 
Danced in responsive dulness to their pumps, 
Like some town hack, that spavined, old, and blind, 
Trots to the music of his broken wind. 

Thus art's dun night hung cloudy o'er the times. 
When famed alike for virtue and for rhymes, 
Warren arose from science' lengthened sleep, 
A Phoebus towering o'er the subject deep ; 
Slow to applaud his worth the world awoke* 
And faint in tone its early praises spoke : 



50 THE TRIUMPH OF WARREN, 

Awhile the sable spirit of his jet 
Neglected shone— an embryo Mahomet ; 
No rapt enthusiast hailed its foetus flame, 
No Strand Maecaenas spurr'd it on to fame, 
Gradual, as time, it won its silent way, 
From grim Spitsbergen's coast to far Cathay, 
Till stung with sudden shame from shore to shore 
Repentant worlds with floods of praise ran o'er. 
So when some spinster, with seductive art, 
Blockades a bachelor's predestined heart, 
Each tempting bait with varied wiles she tries, 
To lure her prey, as spiders bob for flies ; 
In vain her victim chafes in angered mood, 
Loves sudden glow inflames his rebel blood, 
Till round his heart a viewless web is spun, 
And fleshes twain resolve themselves to one. 

Genius of Solomon ! awake, arise ; 
Speed on angelic pinion from your skies ; 
For lo, Eternal Warren's Jet divine, 
Dusks the proud lustre of thine anodyne ! 
E'en Granta's steed-compelling sons rehearse, 
In classic phrase bis eulogistic verse ; 
E'en Isis' thriftless youths uphold his trade, 
(Ah wondrous luck if ever he be paid !) 
Till, as clear streams reflect the tippling ass, 
His wide-spread fame adorns this age of brass. — 
Thrice honoured age of churches and of quacks. 
Of Scotch orations, Liston, and Almack's : 
Each summer gale or winter blast that roars, 
Puffs some new folly to thy guileless shores • 



THE TRIUMPH OF WARREN. 51 

See, graced by fashion, Petersham's cravats, 
Hoby's spring boots, and Dando's dandy hats ; 
On wings of gas see aeronauts arise, 
The Captain Cookes of undiscovered skies, 
Explore new clouds; and coast around the moon, 
Till burst at once the bubble and balloon; 
See lottery crews, our national corsairs, 
Proffer their golden sheaves, but yield the tares ; 
While quackery's genius, hovering o'er her isle, 
Prompts each aspiring folly with a smile. 

But halt, my Muse ; not thine in vengeful verse 
The countless dupes of fashion to rehearse ; 
Not thine to hurl, a cannonading scribe, 
The bolt of war on quackery's mushroom tribe; 
A gentler theme invites thy willing lays; — 
'Mid Granta's meads, where bloom poetic bays, 
'Tis thine to pluck a berry from each bough, 
And twine the wreath round Warren's classic brow* 






THE 

GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE. 

By B. C. 



Thjc melancholy catastrophe on which the following tale if 
founded, occurred but a few years since, in the sequestered 
purlieus of Saint Mary-Axe. That gentle Jewess, Ruth 
Isaacson, who is my unfortunate heroine, and who, as it seems 
from the record, was the interesting and only child of a tinker, 
actually died in the manner I have represented, amid the 
embowering shades of Hampstead. It is proper, however, to 
observe, that the latter part of my poem only is historical. 



1. 
Saint Mary-Axe ! thy boast hath passed away. 
Of beauty (oh ! how peerless) and of love ; 
For hushed to stillness is the Doric lay 
Of her whose gentlest breathings once could move 
Thy sons to tears, as erst Dodona's grove, 
Hymned divine strains (so fame the legend weaves) 
While listening winds sate mourning 'mid its leaves. 

2. 
Santa Maria ! thou hast seen, of yore, 
Ruth pace in virgin pride adown thy street, 



THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE. 53 

As Pyrrha paced of Eld Thessalia's shore, 

Or those young Memphian maids who, with white feet 5 

(Like things enamoured) trod 'mid incense sweet, 

And princely shapes, all radiant as the sun, 

The supreme walls of famous Babylon. 

3. 
And thou hast seen her when the evening bells 
Piped their soft music (soft as maiden's sleep) 
To Hampstead's breezy hills and deep cool dells 
Bidding its winds melodious harvest reap : 
Hast seen her on the fresh sward pause and weep, 
Till the dwarf oak, upreared to mimic height. 
Grew a grey giant in the shades of night. 

4. 
While thus I write : lo, through my casement peers. 
Crescented Dian, pale as when beneath 
Her smile White Galatea, child of tears, 
Sought the boy Acis over hill and heath ; 
But she is gone, and round her name the wreath 
Of poesy is twined : so shall it be, 
Young daughter of Saint Mary- Axe, with thee. 

5. 
Her (Ruth's) life flowed unnoticed as the rill 
That hymns sweet fetches in the ear of May, 
When, amid forests lone, (while winds are still) 
Its gentle waves keep tuneful holiday. 
Oh radiant creature I well may poet's lay 



54 THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE. 

/ 

Attune thy praise ; for ne'er in Phrygian shade, 
The lusty Pan kissed a so dainty maid. 

6. 
Oft in her father's shop, (he was a tinker,) 
This sylph would sit and read the livelong day ; 
Until each casual customer would think her 
Mad (or at least a little touched that way) ; 
But she nought heeded their derisive say, 
But honied verse perused, and tale of pathos 
Tinged with no slight infusion of the bathos. 

7. 
She read how Faunus wooed impassioned maids 
In the hushed twilight of Sicilian groves ; 
And how, 'mid Tempe's amaranthine shades, 
(Beautiful Tempe ! where those blue-eyed loves, 
The wood-nymphs, stray o'night,) meek Hylas roves. 
Mourning his girl with fever-phrenzied brain, 
And worshipping ever her divine disdain. 

8. 
Oh, then her fair full bosom's ample flow 
Would heave like billows on a summer sea; 
And her fond heart, inflamed with kindred glow, 
Would sigh for climes where witching spirits be ; 
And thus years came and vanished, until she 
(Ruth) shone a female gem of purest water, 
Like Amphitrite, the great Neptune's daughter. (12) 



THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE* 55 

9. 

'Twas then that, one May morn, when woods be green., 
And wauton winds make love to Lisson Grove, 
There came a stranger of majestic mien. 
To purchase (mercenary thought !) a stove ; 
Towards the counter Ruth beheld him move, 
Proud as when Dardon Paris first espied 
Coy Venus 'mid the flowering woods of fde. 

10. 
They blushed (this beauteous twain) in sure collision 
Nature had struck from them a mutual fire ; 
Each esteemed each a rare and matchless vision, 
And lit the burning match of young desire ; 
Like the famed bird that fans its funeral pyre, 
Passion, self-nursed, inflamed their fevered brain, 
Till the hot blood ran burning through each vein. 

11. 
In sentimental phrase that maiden loves, 
The stranger roved through city, camp, and court ; 
Discoursed of sunny climes and sable groves, 
And stars, and sylphid forms that stream athwart 
The floor of heaven, where skiey souls resort, 
And beauty's violet veins, which, full and fresh, 
Flow like spring-rills through bloomy meads of flesh. 

12. 
Then, too, he spake of swains who died in youth, 
Nipped by the frost of virgin's sharp disdain, 
Till, by such tale subdued, enamoured Ruth 
6 



56 THE GIRL OF SA1KT MARY-AXE. 

Showered from her eyes (twin-stars) an April rain ; 
But vain the passionate fever of her brain : 
Despite each glance the stranger bade adieu, 
Shouldered his stove, (oh, ingrate 1} and withdrew. 

13. 

And who is he, the eloquent, the proud — 

The stranger idol of Saint Mary's maid ? 

None could declare; like silvery summer-cloud, 

That wraps the mighty Dian in its shade, 

He passed. Oh, love ! thy hopes in distance fade, 

As, from the young mind's fancy-peopled halls, 

Wane nereids, sylphs, and tipsy bacchanals. 

14. 
Twilight is come, and to her couch hath crept, 
In tears, this love-sick, delicate-visaged child: 
Strange visions gleamed around her while she slept, 
Of broken hearts that pined in deserts wild ; 
Beautiful, innocent ladies, with their mild 
And wedded lords, rose shrouded from the dead. 
(Mem. Each mild lord wore antlers on his head.) 

15. 
Auon the dream was changed ; she seemed to walk 
Over far hills and orange meads and flowers, 
While by her side, enwrapt in dreamy talk, 
Stood the beloved stranger : the swift hours 
Flew lightly o'er their heads, as summer showers ; 
And their fresh bridal bed, 'mid odorous vales, 
Heard the voluptuous plaint of nightingales, 



THE GIRL OF "SAINT MARY-AXE, Oi 

16. 
Then blushes fired their cheeks, and scorching sighs 
Breathed the warm spirit of the nuptial night ; 
The stars winked blithely from th' o'erarching skies* 
And the young moon, fast flashing into light, 
Reeled in her orb ; then waning from the sight, 
Went veiled o'er hill and dale, like maiden coy* 
To kiss the pale cheek of her Latmos boy. 

17. 
But soon the vision fades, and morn again 
Climbs the blue-vaulted staircase of the sky ; 
The lark sings farewell to stream, wood, and plain, 
But Ruth nought heeds its matin psalmody- 
Alone she loves to sit, alone to sigh 
In maiden shame, or with weak eye-sight follow 
The dying bravery of the god Apollq. 

18. 
Thus summer fled, and yellow autumn bowed 
To earth the auburn tresses of the grove — 
Old Boreas blew his brazen trump aloud, 
And called on winter from his halls above : 
He came, and Ruth (white creature!) joyed to rove 
Beneath his frown, when wild winds, in their flight* 
Howled shrill December to the ear of night, 

19. 
And thus she faded, very like a whale 
Struck by some northern fisherman's harpoon ; 
None (no, not e'en the tinker !) knew her tale— 



5S THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-A^E. 

For love is delicate as the rose of June ; 
But to that lady of the sky (the moon) 
She told how soon, beneath the flushing sod, 
She (Ruth) should slumber for her stranger god. 



20. 
There is a story that some lady came 
To th' Exhibition ; and while she (last May) 
Was gazing at the portraits and the fame 
Of colour that flashed o'er them, that same day 
A tall girl entered : through the fair array 
She passed ; then sudden with emphatic nod, 
Faultered aloud, "The Stranger Youth, by G— d." 

21. 
Yes, Ruth, 'tis he, th' all perfect portrait glows 
'Neath the bland smile of innocence and love ; 
Rich, pure, Elysian, as in beauty flows 
Pactolus (moon-lit) through Thessalian grove ; 
Oh, king Apollo ! oh Saturnian Jove ! 
Oh Momus, Mars, Mercurius and the rest, 
Ye wane before this day-star of the West. 

22. 
Grace on his brow, and grandeur in his eye, 
Sits throned in triumph ; the warm portrait speaks, 
And from his sturdy figure, (six foot high,) 
And from his square broad shoulders, and his cheeks. 
Flushed like Sicilian skies with ruby streaks, 



THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE. 59 

A sentiment breathes out ; while, firm as rocks, 
His mutton fists seem born to fell an ox. 

23. 
The tall girl blushed in rapturous modesty, 
To view this strapping stranger youth again ; 
And on the catalogue her hungry eye 
Fed (for a distraught impulse fired her brain) 
And lo ! the stranger stands revealed ; for plain 
She sees writ down, as if by Love's command, 
" Portrait of Warren, Number 30, Strand V 9 

24. 
Adown that Strand she rushed with printless speedy 
As coy Camilla scoured the Dardan vales, 
And felt her passionate bosom inly bleed 
With doubt, that strongest amid hope prevails. 
Sensitive, beautiful child ! Ah, what avails 
Thy love ! too soon its ardour hath miscarried, 
For he (de Varenne*) has been three years married, 

25. 
Yet still she gazed on his averted face, 
Cowed 'neath the spell of its stern witchery ; 
And " Oh, let love thy harsher thoughts erase ! 
* c And, while impassioned Ruth stands weeping by, 
" Smile, (sweet one !) from the winter of thine eye 

* De Varenne is the Provencal translation of Warren. Vide 
my Poem on Eva de Varenne, «• The Girl of Provence."— 
B.C. 

f> * 



60 THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE. 

"Yon chilly blast," she cried, with heart o'erfull $ 
But he replied, "No, blast me ifl wooll I" (13) 

26. 
She heard and sighed in hopeless anguish deep, 
And never more at mellow eve or morn, 
With punctual pathos failed for hours to weep— 
She stood in tears like maiden all forlorn 
Who milked (fond wench) the cow with crumpled 

horn, 
And on her paling cheek, by woe bespent, 
Decay sat throned in divine blandishment* 

27. 
At times, in sunset silence, she would sit 
And pick a rose to pieces, and, while lay 
The ruins on the floor, her pensive fit 
Would joy to mark its colours fade away ; 
M And thus," she cried, "will this here soul de- 
cay." (14) 
Then, bending her sweet form in mute distress. 
Would weep (ah me !) from very gentleness, 

28. 
Anon, within her luminous kid shoes, 
Bright with her lover's blacking, she would see 
(Faithfully imaged) her wan countenance lose 
Its early lustre, and the innocent glee 
That once illumed her eye with sunshine, flee 
Like light, when (summer past) each despot cloud 
Coffins the long November in its shroud. 



THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE, 81 

29. 
And if she chanced to walk, each heartless wall 
Brought back her lover's image to her mind ; 
For, chalked on church-yard, lane, and Hicks's Ha!l 3 
44 Buy Warren's Blacking" whitened in the wind; 
Each newspaper evinced his gifted mind, 
And oft bis puffs, thick-set in dainty rhymes, 
Flamed (like Proven9al star-light) in the Times. 

30. 
The Courier too, the Herald, and the Post, 
Bell's Weekly Messenger, the Real John Bull, 
Puffed his jet goods (four times a month at most) 
In poesy which the laurel wreath might pull 
From Tasso's or divine Boccacio's skull; 
And these fond Ruth would read, while gentle sighs 
Heaved her white breast, and tears bedimmed her 
eyes. 

31. 
This must have end ; and like a dream she passed, 
Passed from the threshold of her native home : 
No mother mouru'd her loss when, downward cast, 
The dry dust rattled on her virgin tomb : 
Alone she lived, alone within the gloom 
Of death she slumbers, never more to rove, 
A martyred outcast, through the world of love. 

32. 
She died at day- break, in her white chemise; 
At half-past^ two o'clock, (it might be three?) 



62 THE GIRL OF SAINT MARY-AXE, 

The doctor came and found her on her knees, 
Warbling aloud a Hebrew melody ; 
She ceased on his approach-, and, with faint glee, 
Hymned a low tune, (sung partly through her nose,) 
And Warren's Blacking was the theme she chose. 

33. 
She died, and lovely in her sleep she lay, 
As lies Apollo in his golden hour 
Of rest; no slow disease, no dull decay, 
With mildewy withering finger, passed her o'er; 
But swift and sudden as a summer flower, 
(Cut for some beautiful breast,) or mountain rill, 
Life's spirit ebbed — then lay for ever still. 

34. 
Thus perished Israel's pride, but o'er her wavqs 
Spring's first-born daisy ; the lone bird is there, 
The bird who loves to mourn at eve o'er graves 
Where beauty sleeps, the gentle and the fair; 
And whispering as it goes, the tremulous air, 
With voice of girlish fondness, seems to cry, 
" Buv Warren's Blacking !" to each passer by. 



THE 

SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY.* 
Bv B. M. 



We are desirous, my public, of talking with you on 
two subjects of infinite national importance, to wit, 
ourselves and Warren's Blacking, As our rheumatism 
(thanks to the Odontist) is somewhat abated, and 
we are now seated at Ambrose's, with a jug of 
hot toddy on one side of us, and our beloved O'Do- 
herty on the other (15), we intend to be exceedingly 
amiable, eloquent, and communicative. But by the 
bye, when were we ever otherwise ? Our disposit- 
ions, like our alimentary organs, are always gently 
open ; and though some pluckless flutterlings of Cock- 
aigne may wince at the occasional effervescence of 
our Tory bile, yet the majority of the civilised world 
will bear witness to our benevolent genius. And 
well, indeed, may they do so, for with our sweeping 
besom of reform we have stirred up a revolution not 
only in periodical literature, but in every depart- 
ment of science. Sir Humphrey Davy and Sir Tho- 

* We have just received a bale of Mr. Warren's poetical 
advertisements, which we shall take an early opportunity of 
noticing -~0> N. 



64 THE SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY. 

inas Lawrence owe their reputation especially to lis. 
We and Buonaparte were among the first to point 
out the talents of the one, and we introduced the 
other to the notice of his present Majesty. 

Standing then as we do upon the very pinnacle of 
popularity, and aware that every man of talent we 
encourage is immediately received at court, we are 
cautious in disseminating our patronage. But when 
such scientific characters as Pierce Egan, regius pro- 
fessor of pugilism, or Robert Warren, poet and manu- 
facturer, solicit our aid, we are nervously alive to 
their interests. The latter gentleman in particular 
we have long marked, as Doctor Johnson observed of 
Milton, "stealing his way in a sort of subterranean 
current through fear and silence," and we determin- 
ed to take the earliest opportunity of encouraging 
his virtuous perseverance. This intention we com- 
municated to him last year, but as month after month 
rolled on without a notice, he resolved to remind us 
of it in the following delicate manner. It seems that 
Mr. Blackwood is in the daily habit of opening his 
own shop windows, apd on going the other morning 
for that express purpose, he was astonished to see 
chalked up on the left-hand shutter, w Buy Warren's 
Blacking." Now could any hint, my public, be 
more modestly characteristic than this ? Not 6i Puff 
Warren's Blacking," or •• Write an article on War- 
ren's Blacking," but simply and negatively, "Buy 
Warren's Blacking;" thus connecting us in exhorta- 
tion with the uninterested majority of his patrons. 
And this delicate remembrancer is a Cockney ! One 



THE SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY. 6& 

who makes use of his grandmother's shin-bone for s 
switch, bedecks himself in yellow breeches, and dis- 
penses with the luxury of a cravat. But no, we beg 
his pardon, Robert Warren is no Cockney ; he is of 
the land of William Wallace and Christopher North ; 
and for any man to assert that he is not, is about as 
ridiculous as to assert that Doctor Parr performed 
Harlequin in the late pantomime. 

In directing, then, the attention of the universe to 
Mr. Warren, we arc anxious that it should consider 
him not merely as a manufacturer of blacking, but as 
the founder of a new school of verse, an opinion 
which we boldly rest on the ground of his poetical 
advertisements. With the exception of ourselves, 
and a ^ew of the Lake writers, he is the most accom- 
plished versifier of his day. Byron may, perhaps, be 
more gloomily magnificent, but Warren has a purer 
invention, full even to overflowing, of those fanciful 
humanities which shed a sweet and holy charm over 
the poetry of Wordsworth and Wilson. In opening 
a subject, he steps into it as he would into his 
shoes, with the familiarity of an acquaintance ; and 
whatever character of feeling he may describe, 
whether it be a cock mistaking a pair of boots for a 
looking glass, or a gentleman adrasing his beard by 
the same sort of luminous dumb-waiter, till you feel 
that the mighty minstrel draws his every charm from 
the intense sensibility of self. But it is in delineat- 
ing the sober feelings of humanity, that Mr. War- 
ren is more immediately successful ; he is the Words- 
worth of commerce, and revolts from scenes of hor- 



66 THE SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY. 

ror to dwell with affectionate interest on subjects of 
familiar nature. In this respect he resembles the 
Lake writers ; but as their characters and descrip- 
tions are all drawn from the country, while those of 
Warren are confined in their localities to the Strand, 
and in their incidents to commerce, a sufficient dif- 
ference exists to warrant us in holding him out as 
the founder of a new school, 

In the poetry of things in general, his genius is 
equally felicitious. Even a pair of boots become in 
his eye creatures of loveliness and life, iike the con- 
secrated white doe of Rylstone. Thus, too, in walk- 
ing the Strand, if he comes in sudden contact with a 
gutter, he does not vulgarly avoid it for its capacity 
of bespattering his pantaloons, but connects it with 
the streams of his native land, where the rivers glide 
•• at their own sweet will," unless, like the Caledo- 
nian canal, they are taught to glide at the ** will" of 
others. On the same ideal principle a sow is not to 
him a mere guttling porker ; it is either the " savage 
of the wild," or the " sovereign of the stye." In 
the latter case he associates it in thought with ima- 
ges of royal magnificence. Its bristles are the scep- 
tres of its majesty, its grunt the thunders of its voice, 
and even its salt bacon recalls the attic salt of the 
philosophic Verulam. 

This is the true secret of imagination, of that " di- 
vine faculty," which enables its owner to see deeper 
into things in general than the less gifted majority of 
mankind ; to discover philosophy in a pedlar, poetry 
in a travelling tinker, and in the intestines of the 



THE SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY, 67 

buttercup, " thoughts that do often lie too deep for 
tears." In a word, this is the sole secret of genius, 
and hence it follows that many of our most imagina- 
tive but neglected authors have been enabled by its 
exercise to detect a bailiff in every stranger that ac- 
costs them. 

The only fault we have to find with Mr. Warren 
consists in his excessive egotism. Though his genius, 
like some coy maid, loves to wander among scenes of 
congenial gentleness, amid the groves of Lisson, and 
the umbrageous walls of Kensington and London, yet 
he would have his walls inscribed with exhortations 
to <c Buy Warren's Blacking," and teach his groves 
to lisp its praise. In spite, however, of this defect, 
which he shares in common with the choicest spirits 
of the age, his advertisements are peculiarly popular ; 
and knowing, as we do, the sympathetic sensibilities 
of their minds, we can conceive nothing more preg- 
nant with advantage to literature, that a matrimonial 
alliance between the rival schools of Warren and 
Wordsworth. Of Byron we say nothing, he is de- 
cidedly inferior to both ; but it is clear that the su- 
burban fancy of Warren would blend beautifully with 
the sylvan imagination of Wordsworth ; their home- 
ly dialect would meet in exact accordance, and the 
pedlars and jack-asses of the one prove an interest- 
ing counterpart to the cock and boots of the other. 

We must now suspend our criticism, and say a few 

words upon Robert in his well-known capacity of 

manufacturer. His blacking, then, upon which he 

principally plumes himself, merits every commenda» 

7 



68 THE SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY. 

tion that his poetry has so eloquently bestowed on 
it. To boots, shoes, and all the family of the leathers, 
it answers the purpose of aqua-vitae, by strengthen- 
ing them with a spirit of rejuvenescence that it is 
truly refreshing to behold. It would suit Saint Leon 
to a T. With the aichymist's elixir for himself in 
one pocket, and Warren's elixir for his boots in the 
other, he might still wear imperishable apparel. 
Even Africa is now becoming sensible of its merits, 
for O'Doherty assures us, that when he was with his 
regiment at the Cape, he messed with a corps of Hot- 
tentots, who were all dressed in Hessian-boots, and 
solemnly assured him, that they needed no better 
looking-glasses. 

In Europe, we are happy to observe, that its cir- 
culation is equally marvellous. Wherever Black- 
wood's Magazine goes, [et qua carent nostra or a libro ?) 
W'arren's blacking accompanies it ; and our kind Cos- 
sack correspondent, who dates from the Wolga, in- 
forms us, that he saw them both slumbering in peace- 
ful fellowship together on the borders of Crim Tarta- 
ry. Conceive, then, its enormous circulation ! We 
sell about 30,000 magazines monthly, and Warren 
must be hard at our heels. So astonishing indeed is 
his present popularity, that at Holland House he is 
said to be the great unknown. This, however, is a 
falsehood of the whigs, for we have every reason to 
believe, that Sir William Curtis is the author of the 
Scotch novels. (16) 

Thus much by way of eulogium on Warren ; but 
before we conclude, we cannot help reverting to our- 



THE SABLE SCHOOL OF POETRY. 69 

selves in the instance of a recent calumny, which was 
evidently intended to ruin us in the eyes of Europe. 
it has been whispered in the upper circles, that we 
have accepted the office of prime minister, on condi- 
tion of colleaguing with Lord Grey, This blood- 
thirsty bouncer we have traced to the same wretches 
who accused bis Majesty of being a sylph, and can 
only say in answer, that like Caesar we have three 
several times refused the seals ; for after the back- 
sliding of our once honoured contributor Tims, who 
(we are shocked to say) has married his grandmother, 
we have felt little inclination to enter into public 
life. But could we ever do so without compromising 
our principles, Robert Warren should be our poet*? 
laureate, 



THE CHILDE'S PILGRIMAGE. 

Br Lord B— '^ThJ' 



I. 

Whilome ia Limebouse docks there dwelt a 
youth, 
Childe Higgins higbt, tbe child of curst ennui, 
Despair, shame, sin, with aye assailing tooth, 
Had worn his beauty to the bone. — Ah me ! 
A lone unloving libertine was he ; 
For reft of health and hope's delusive wiles, 
And tossed in youth on passion's stormy sea, 
He stood a wreck 'mid its deserted isles, 
Where vainly pleasure wooes and syren woman 
smiles. 

2. 
He was a merchant, 'till ennui 'd with toil 
Of couuting house turned but to small account, 
Sated of home, and Limehouse' leaden soil, 
Nee more to his dried heart a freshening fount 
Of kindly feelings ; he aspired to mount 
To intellectual fame, for when the brain 
Is dulled by thoughts ave fearful to surmount. 



THE CHILDE'S PILGRIMAGE. 71 

When youth, hope, love, essay their charms in 
vain, 
The rake-hell turns a blue as doth his sky again. 

3. 
Thus turned the Childe, when in the Morning 
Post, 
The Herald, Chronicle, and eke the Times, 
He read with tasteful glee a daily host 
Of the Strand bard's self-eulogistic rhymes; 
He read, and fired with zeal, resolv'd betimes 
A pilgrim to that ministrel's shrine to move, 
As Allah's votaries in Arabian climes 
To far Medina's hallowed altar rove, 
There low to bend before the idpi of their love. 

4. 
He left his home, his wife without a sigh, 
And trod with pilgrim-pace the Limehouse road; 
The morn beamed laughing in the dark blue sky, 
And warm the sun on post and pavement glowed : 
Each varied mile new charms and churches showed, 
But sceptic Higgins jeered the sacred band ; 
For his full tide of thought with scorn o'erflowed, 
Or deep immersed in objects grave and grand, 
Dwelt on the Warren's fame, at Number Thirty, 
Strand. 

5. 
He passed Whitechapel in such ireful mood, 
Where murdered muttons bob to every wind f 

7 * 



72 the childe's pilgrimage. 

He saw the runnels red with bestial blood, 
Their lazy streams through street and alley wind : 
He saw and sickened in his inmost mind, 
Felt how the heart with savage spleen ycrammed, 
In blood alone can strange endearment find ; 
But such is man, (each pure affection shammed,) 
Mean, heartless, lawless, dull, detestable, and 
damned, 

6. 
A truce to thought, for attic Billingsgate 
Already lures the pilgrim from his road ; 
Awe-struck he sees each naiad and her mate, 
Haggling for halfpence with some river god, 
Her Doric dialect, beautiful as broad, 
Her plump cheek redolent of ancient grease, 
Her fleecy hose with yellow worsted sewed, 
Recall proud Athen's days, its golden fleece, 
Its academic wits, and fame that nee shall cease. 

7. 
Not so thy street, Boeotian Leadenhall ! 
Famed for new novels, leaden all and dull ; 
Though wags thy library " Minerva" call, 
Yet very British is Minerva's skull.— 
Her brainless books seem'd doom'd to gather 

wool? 
Or sold to vile cheesemongers by the pound, 
To scour the soulless sculleries of John Bull, 
While pots and pans (not sylvan) aye surround 
Each pame-strieken tome* despite its lore profound 



THE CHILPE'S PILGRIMAGE. 73 

8. 

And this is fame, that covetous cooks 9 shops 
Should form the graves pf every martyr'd work, 
That Southey's strains should wrap up mutton 

chops, 
Or Cheshire cheese anoint the leaves of Burke.— 
That Theodore Ducas — Catiline — should lurk 
'Mid Granger's sweets, with Wordsworth's Peter 

Bell, 
Or Chalmers's Lecture on the Scotish kirk 
Sleep with its fathers in some London hell, 
Some fruiterer's fruitful shelf where dirt and dulness 

dwell. 

9. t 

But, lo, th' Exchange ! a busy world is here* — 
A world of knaves in wide confusion blent ; 
Here beams the smile,— there falls th' unheeded 

tear, 
For stock well-purchased, or for gold ill-spent. 
All are on one fool's errand madly bent, 
And Turk and Christian pass unnoticed by, 
While Israel's son's nee more to discontent 
A prey, — the new Jerusalem espy, 
In this barbaric booth, this fair of vanity. 

10. 
Ah me ! how grovelling is the mind of man I 
How fixed on perishable hopes, and mean ! 
Wealth, honour, pri$e, engross his paltry span 



'4 THE CHILDE'S PILGRIMAGE. 

Of life, — then leave him scathed in heart as 

mien. — 
Here where I stand, the spirit of the scene 
Enchains all hearts with talismanic spell, 
In vain aspiring youth with blossoms green, 
Bedeck'd comes forth ; — here Mammon tolls his 

knell,— 
And round him weaves the chain of avarice and of 

hell. 

11. 

Th' Exchange is past, the Mansion House 
appears, 
Surpris'd the Childe surveys its portly site, 
Dim dreams assail him of convivial years 3 
And keener waxes his blunt appetite. — 
Luxurious visions whelm his fancy quite, 
Of calipash and eke of calipee, 
While sylphs of twenty stone steal o'er his sight, 
Smiting their thighs with blythe Apician glee, 
And licking each his lips right beautiful to see. 

12. 

s Twas here they tucked, — these unctuous city 
sprites, — 
s Twas here like geese they fattened and they 

died, 
Here turtle reared for them her keen delights, 
And forests yielded their cornuted pride. — 
Put all was vain, 'mid daintiest feasts they sighed ; 



I/HE CHIJ.DE S PILGRIMAGE. 4 O 

Gout trod in anger on. each hapless toe ; 
Stem apoplexy pummelled each fat side. 
And dropsy seconded his deadly blow, 
'Till floored by fate they sunk to endless sleep 
below. 

13. 
But hark, the hum of multitudes, the roar 
Of carts and coaches, and the various squalls 
Or cries, that pierce the ear-drum's inmost core, 
Have roused the Childe's attention at Saint 

Paul's. 
Cheapside to near Guildhall in thunder calls, 
Guildhall replies, of lungs with justice proud; 
Milk-street and Lothbury, glad to join the brawls, 
Have found a tongue, while Wood-street from her 
shroud 
Rebellows to Lad-lane, who calls to her aloud. 

14. 

And in the midst, as leader of the band, 
Stands the magnificent Saint Paul's ;— «he towers 
Sublime to heaven, by winnowing breezes fanned. 
Unknown on lower earth ; — the rattling showers, 
The storm, the whirlwind that in vengeance 

lowers, 
Pass him unharm'd ; — he lifts his giant brow, 
As if in mockery of their puny powers, 
Or rapt in clouds like conscious guilt in woe, 
Soars from the vulgar ken a mystery as now. 



76 THE CHILDE'S PILGRIMAGE, 

15. 
Something too much of this ; but now 'tis past, 
And Fleet-street spreads her busy vale below ; 
Lo ! proud ambitious gutters hurry past, 
To rival Thames in full continuous flow; 
The Inner Temple claims attention now, 
That Golgotha of thick and thread-bare skull% 
Where modest merit pines in chambers low, 
And impudence his oar in triumph pulls 
Along the stream of wealth, and snares its rich sea- 
gulls. 

16. 
Hail to this shrine of barristers and brass ! 
Of wigs and wags of learning and of lead I 
Solomon's brazen temple — but alas ! 
With old king Log, king Solomon instead. 
Ye gifted spirits of the legal dead, 
Will none arise to grace degraded law ? 
Vain hope, despite the lore of each long head., 
Satan hath found their lives a moral flaw, 
And on them, bailiff-like, hath laid his ebon paw. 

% 

17. 

And thus the world is rife alone with fools, 
Who clank in chains while fashion holds the noose; 
Court, camp, and church, — what are they but the 

tools 
Of sin, shame, slang, buffoonery, and abuse ? 
Moinus with man has made a lasting truce 



the childe's pilgrimage. 77 

And hence our patriots puff, — our* warriors 

bray, — 
Hence critics flood us with a muddy sluice 
Of maudlin prose,— hence cant holds sovereign 

sway, 
And sinless saints are spurn'd, while sainted sinners 

pray. 

18* 
Our life is one fierce fever — death the leech 
Who lulls each throb ;— the has been, and to be ; — 
The sole divine whose welcome aid can teach 
The mysteries of a dread futurity. — 
Come when he may, his advent will to me 
Be spring and sunshine, for my soul is dark, 
And o'er the billows of life's shoreless sea, 
A sea uncheer'd by hope's celestial ark, 
Cradled in storms and winds floats lone my little 
bark. 

19. 
Thus mused the Chiide, as thoughtful he drew 

near 
The sacred shrine of Number Thirty, Strand, 
And saw bright glittering in the hemisphere — 
Like stars on moony nights — a sacred band 
Of words that formed the bard's cognomen — 

grand 
Each letter shone beneath the eye of day, 
And the proud sign-boot, by spring breezes 

fanned, 



78 THE CHILDE'S PILGRIMAGE. 

Shot its deep brass reflections o'er the way, 
As shoots the tropic inorn o'er meads of Paraguay. 

20. 
Childe Higgins hied him to this bless'd abode— 
Not forked Parnassus— Crete's Olympian hill — 
Not Ilium's plain — by kings and warriors trod— ~ 
Calypso's cavern, Aganippe's rill, 
Or Circe's isle famed for enchautment still — 
Ere thrilled his soul with such intense delight 
As thrilled it now when Warren's magic till 
Thro' each shop-window gleamed upon his sight * 
Clear as Italian dawn that gilds the brow of night. 

21. 
But I forget — my pilgrim's shrine is won — 
And he himself— the lone unloving Childe — 
His Limebouse-birth, his name, his sandal-shoon, 
And scallop shell, are dreams by fancy piled : 
His dull despairing thoughts alone — once mild 
As love — now dark as fable's darkest hell, 
Are stern realities ; — but o'er the wild 
Drear desert of their blight the soothing spell 
Of Warren's verse flits rare as sun-beams o'er 
Pall Mall. 

22. 
Farewell — a word that must be and hath 
been — 
Ye dolphin dames who turn from blue to grey, 
Ye dandy drones who charm each festive scene 



TtfE CHILDJETS FILGRJMAGE. 



^9 



With brainless buzz, and frolic in your May, 
Ye ball-room bards who live your little day, 
And ye who flushed in purse parade the town, 
Booted or shod — to you my Muse would say, 
" Buy Warren's Blacking/' as ye hope 
crown 
Your senseless souls or soulless senses with renown. 



to 



THE DREAM, 

A PSYCHOLOGICAL CURIOSITY. 

By S. T. C. 



ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER. 

The following "wild and singularly original and 
beautiful poem" was written at the instigation of 
Mr. Warren, who was desirous of enrolling me among 
the number of his panegyrists. The circumstances 
that led to its original composition are as follows : 
I had been considering in what way I might best 
introduce the subject, when suddenly falling asleep 
over a provincial newspaper which detailed the 
battle between Cribb and Moiineux, the thoughts 
of my waking hours assumed the aspect of the 
present poetical reverie. This to an unidead 
u reading public" may appear incredible, but minds 
of imaginative temperament are ever most active 
during the intervals of repose, as my late poem, en- 
titled "The Pains of Sleep," will sufficiently attest. 

Dreams in fact are to be estimated solely in pro- 
portion to their wildness ; and hence a friend of 
mine, who is a most magnificent dreamer, imagined 



ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER. 81 

but the other night that he invited a flock of sheep 
to a musical party. Such a^ocd, nauci, nihili absur- 
dity will, I am afraid, puzzle even our transcen- 
dental philosophers to explain, although Kant, in 
his treatise on the Phenomena of Dreams, is of 
opinion that the lens or focus of intestinal light as- 
cending the oesophagus at right angles, a juxta- 
position of properties takes place, so that the nu- 
cleus of the diaphragm reflecting on the cerebellum 
the prismatic visions of the pilorus, is made to 
produce that marvellous operation of mind upon 
matter better known by the name of dreaming.-— 
To such simple and satisfactory reasoning what an- 
swer can be made ? 

Before I conclude I think it but right to observe, 
that the poem, with the exception of a few lines 
subsequently added to suit the immediate purposes 
of its publication, was written on the first of April, 
A.D. 1812, (17) at Nether Stowey, a small village in 
Somersetshire, about two miles from All Foxden, 
on the high western road, a little on this side of 
Bath, and about eighteen miles and a half from 
Bristol. 



THE DREAM, 

A PSYCHOLOGICAL CURIOSITY* 



Ten minutes to ten by Saint Dunstan's clock? 
And the owl has awakened the crowing cock : 

Cock-a-doodle-doo, 

Cock-a-doodle-doo. 
If he crows at this rate in so thrilling a note* 
Jesu Maria ! he'll catch a sore throat. 

Warren the manufacturer rich 
Hath a spectral mastiff bitch ; 
To Saint Dunstan's clock, tho' silent enow, 
She barketh her chorus of bow wow, wow : 
Bow for the quarters, and wow for the hour ; 
Nought cares she for the sun or the shower ; 
But when, like a ghost all-arrayed in its shroud 9 
The wheels of the thunder are muffled in cloud* 
When the moon, sole chandelier of night, 
Bathes the blessed earth in light, 
As wizard to wizard, or witch to witch, 
Howleth to heaven this mastiff bitch. 

Buried in thought O' Warren lay, 
Like a village queen on the birth of May ; 
He listed the tones of Saint Dunstan's clocks 
Of the mastiff bitch and the crowing cock 



THE DREAM. #3 

But louder, far louder, he listed a roar, 
Loud as the billow that booms on the shore ; 
Bang, bang, with a pause between, 
Rung the weird sound at his door, I ween. 
Up from his couch he leaped in affright, 
Oped his grey lattice and looked on the night, 
Then put on his coat, and with harlequin hop 
Stood like a phantom in midst of the shop ; 
In midst of his shop he stood like a sprite, 
Till peering to left and peering to right, 
Beside his counter, with tail in hand, 
He saw a spirit of darkness stand ; 
I guess 'twas frightful there to see 
A lady so scantily clad as she 
Ugly and old exceedingly. 

In height her figure was six feet two, 
In breadth exactly two feet six, 
One eye as summer skies was blue, 
The other black as the waves of Styx. 
Her bloodless lips did aught but pair, 
For one was brown and one was fair. 
And clattered like maid in hysteric fit, 
Or jack that turneth a kitchen spit ; 
Jesu Maria! with awe, I trow, 
O' Warren beheld this worricow, 
For dreary and dun the death-hue came 
O'er her cheek, as she traced the words ©f flame ; 
The words of flame that with mystic fuss 
Are hatched from a still-born incubus, 
8* 



84 THE DREAM. 

And doom each wight who reads, to dwell 
Till the birth of day in the caves of hell. 

Oh ! read thee not, read thee not, lord of the Strang 
The spell that subjects thee to elfin command ; 
Vain hope ! the bogle hath marked her hour, 
And Warren hath read the words of power ; 
Letter by letter he traced the spell, 
Till the sullen toll of Saint Dunstan's bell, 
And the midnight howl of the mastiff bitch, 
Announced his doom to the Hal low mass witch. 
Still in her grandeur she stood by, 
Like an oak that uplooketh to sun and sky ; 
Then shouted to Warren with fitful breath ; 
•■ I'm old mother Nightmare-life-in-death ; (18) 
Halloo ! halloo ! we may not stay, 
Satan is waiting ; away, away ; 
Halloo ! halloo ! we've far to go, 

Then hey for the devil ; jee-up ! jee-hoe ' 3 

O'Warren requested a little delay, 

But the evil one muttered " too late, by my fay ;M 

So he put on his breeches and scampered away. 

And here mote 1 tell how they rode on the wind. 
The witch before and the Warren behind ; 
How they passed in a twinkling the haunts of man, 
And the proud pagodas of Kubla Khan ; 
How they peeped at the planets like Allan-a-room 5 
And supped on green cheese with the man in the 
moon; 



THE DREAM. 



85 



Or listed the dulcimer's tremulous notes, 

Or the voice of the wiud through the azure that floats, 

Till pillar and palace and arching sky 

Rung to the mingled melody. 

The eye of night is veiled in cloud, 

Like a nun apparelled in sable shroud ; 

But the twain have past her starry dome, 

And are bound to the realms of eternal gloom ? 

They have past the regions of upper air, 

Where zephyr is born amid music rare, 

And the shadows of twilight featly fall 

On starry temple and cloudy hall, 

Whose floors by spirits are paced, and ring 

With the harp's seraphic murmuring. 

Away, away, through the thunder-cloud, 
Where tempest and ruin sit laughing aloud ; 
Away, away, through the fields of air, 
Where the night-wind howls to the falling star; 
This amiable couple have past, and now 
They gain the swart regions of darkuess and woe^ 
O'Warren beheld them, and shrunk with awe, 
Like a client held fast in the grasp of law, 
Then hymned to the Virgin for aid and for pity, 
A highly correct and devotional ditty : 
P Miserere Maria/' he cried in despair, 
While the bullet-nosed bogle drew back at the prayer^ 
For Mary, sweet Mary, hath power to fright, 
And palsy the souls of the daemons of night ; 
M Miserere Maria," he bellowed again, 
And the worricow dropt her eye-tooth at the strain, 



p THE DPwEAM. 

But spite of her teeth, she eschewed complaint, 

Till troubled in spirit, and cowed and faint, 

She collared the tradesman with horrible yell, 

Then plunged with him head over heels into hell. 

Oh, how its wild waves bellowed and boomed ! ! 

Oh, how its vapours the air perfumed ! ! 

As Warren with timid and stifled breath, 

And followed by old Mrs. Life-in-deatb, 

Moved to where Satan reclined alone, 

In the silence of thought on his ebon throne. 

His brow was dark as death, for care 

Had heavily laid her impress there, 

And throned, like a king, in his hollow eye 

Sate the ghost of a sullen dignity ; 

His look was of hate, but grand and still 

As the pine that frowns on an Alpine hill, 

His figure majestic, and formed for braving, 

Battle or blood — and he wanted shaving. (19) 

Proudly he strode to his palace gate, 
Which the witch and the Warren approached in state, 
But paused at the threshold as onward they came, 
Aud thus, with words of fever and flame, 
The tradesman addressed, "Your name, Sir, is known 
As a vender of sables wide over the town ; 
But in hell with proviso this praise we must mix, 
For though brilliant your blacking, the water of Styx 
Is blacker by tar, and can throw, as it suits, 
A handsomer gloss o'er our shoes and our boots." — 



THE DREAM. 81 

Answered the Warren, with choleric eye, 
*' Oh, king of the cock-tailed incubi ! (20) 
The sneer of a fiend to your puffs you may fix, 
But if, what is worse, you assert that your Styx 
Surpasses my blacking, ('twas clear he was vexed). 
By Jove ! you will ne'er stick at any thing next. 

I have dandies who laud me at Paine's and Al- 

mack's, (21) 
Despite Day and Martin, those emulous quacks, 
And they all in one spirit of concord agree, 
That my blacking is better than any black sea 
Which flows thro' your paltry Avernus, I wis," — 

II Pshaw," Satan replied, " I'll be damned if it is." 

The tradesman he laughed at this pitiful sneer., 
And drew from his pocket, unmoved by the jeer 
Of the gathering daemons, blue, yellow, and pink 3 
A bottle of blacking more sable than ink; — 
With the waves of the Styx in a jifFey they tried it 9 
But the waves of the Styx looked foolish beside it ; 
"You mote as well liken the summer sky," 
Quoth Warren the bold, " with an Irish stye ; 
The nightingale's note with the cockatoo's whine. 
As your lily-white river with me or mine." 

Round the brow of Abaddon fierce anger played, 
At the Strand manufacturer's gasconade ; 
And lifting a fist that mote slaughter an ox, 
He wrathfully challenged his foeman to box; 
Then summoned each daemon to form a ring, 
And witness his truculent triumphing.— 



88 THE DREAM. 

The ring was formed and the twain set to, 

Like little Puss with Belasco the Jew. (22) 

Satan was seconded in a crack, 

By Molineux, the American black, 

(Who sported an oath as a civil Salam), 

While Warren was backed by the ghost of Dutch 

Sam. — 
Gentles, who fondly peruse these lays, 
Wild as a colt o'er the moorland that strays, 
Who thrill at each wondrous rede I tell, 
As fancy roams o'er the floor of hell, 
Now list ye with kindness, the whiles I rehearse 
In shapely pugilistic verse, 
(Albeit my fancy preferreth still 
The quiet of nature,; this desperate Mill. (23) 

2Hte JFtflftt 

Both men on peeling showed nerve and bone, 
And weighed on an average fourteen stone ; 
Doffed their silk fogle, for battle agog, 
Yellorvman, castor and white upper tog ; 
Then sparred for a second their ardor to cool, 
And rushed at each other like bull to bull. 

1. Was a smasher, for Brummagem Bob* 
Let fly a topper on Beelzebub's nob ; 

* It is currently reported at Carlton House, and the higher 
circles of fashion, that Robert Warren, Esq. is a native of Bir- 
mingham. H On this hint I spake." 



THE DREAM. 89 

Then followed him up over the ring with ease 9 
And doubled him up by a blow in the squeeze* 

2. Satan was cautious in making play, 

But stuck to his sparring and pummelled away ; 
Till the ogles of Warren looked queer in their hue, 
(Here, bets upon Beelzebub; three to two.) 

3. Fibbing?, and facers, and toppers abound, 

But Satan, it seems, hath the worst of the round. 

4. Satan was floored by a lunge in the hip, 

And the blood from his peepers, went drip, drip, 

drip, (24) 
Like fat from a goose in the dripping pan, 
Or ale from the brim of a flowing can ; 
His box of dominos chattered aloud, 
(Here, u Go it, Nick !" from an imp in the crowd,) 
And he dropped with a Lancashire purr on his 

back, (2/5) 
While Bob with a clincher fell over him, whack. 

5. Both men piping came up to the scratch, 

But Bob for Abaddon was more than a match ; 
He tapped his claret, his mug he rent, 
And made him so groggy with punishment, 
That he gladly gave in at the close of the round, 
And Warren in triumph was led from the ground. 

Then trumpet, and timbrel, and deafening shout, 
Like wind through a ruin rung lustily out, 



90 THE DREAM. 

High o'er the rocks that jut over the deep, 

Where the souls of the damned to eternity weep ; 

Echo threw forward her answer of fear, 

Dull as the dust that clanks over a bier, 

Or death-watch that beats in a sick man's ear. 

From the gulph where they howl to the lead«co!ored 

night, 
The shadowless spectres leaped up with delight, 
And M Buy Warren's Blacking" they shouted aloud, 
As the nigbt-wind sighs through a coffinless shroud. 
The evil one frowned while they bellowed amain, 
But " Buy Warren's Blacking" he chorussed again; 
For tho' worsted in fight, yet, by order of fate, 
The vanquished must temper the pulse of his hate, 
And yield to the victor (his will's despite) 
Unbridled sway o'er the fiends of night. 
'Tis done, and sore with his recent thwacking, 
Abaddon had purchased O' Warren's blacking ; 
Fate stood by while the bargain was made, 
Signed a receipt when the money was paid, 
Then summoned her sprites, an exemplary band. 
To kneel in respect to the Lord of the Strand. 

They came with harp and timbre \ x 

And dulcimer and lute, 
With double-drum and cymbal f 

Fife, flageolet and flute ; 
There was one o'er the ocean 

Sate singing and lone, 
While the Styx in commotion, 

Re-echoed each tone. 



THE DREAM» 91 

He sate in his beauty on billows of flame. 
And marshalled the daemons as onward they came; 
Till at once they struck up at his tuneful command, 
" Whack for O'Warren, the Pride of the 
Strand! ! !" 

But hark, 'tis the voice of the crdwing cock I 
And hark, 'tis the toll of Saint Dunstan's clock ! 
The morn rides high in the Eastern sky, 
And the little birds carol it merrily : 
Already have waned at the gladsome sight, 
Each scene of darkness, each goblin sprite ; 
Abaddon to whit, and the whole of his crew, 
Pink, yellow, or rosy, green, purple, or blue, 
For cheered by the rays thro' his lattice that peep,. 
The bard hath awoke from the * s Pains of Sleep." 



ANNUS MIRABILIS; 

OR, 

A PARTHIAN GLANCE AT 1823. 

SHOWING, 

AMONG OTHER MEMORABLE MINUTLE, THE PROGRES- 
SIVE POPULARITY OF WARREN^ BLACKING. 

By the N. M. M. 

_ 

January. — Intense frosts, aud the Serpentine unu- 
sually thronged with skaiters. Mr. Horner publish- 
ed a series of engravings taken from the summit of 
Saint Paul's ; built an attic above the cross, and made 
divers domestic discoveries with his telescope. A 
Major Paull, of the Bombay establishment, was caned 
by his black servant ; a wag observed on the occa- 
sion, tbat the negro appeared to have followed Vir- 
gil's advice of " Paullo majora canamus ;" the trial 
came on at Calcutta. A lady in Dyott Street stirred 
up her husband with a poker. Four pair of old ba- 
chelors committed matrimony at Saint George's, 

Hanover Square. Verdict, Lunacy. Warren's 

Blacking increased in circulation, by means of 50 ad- 
ditional Agents. 

February. — Tom and Jerry mania on the decline ; 
only four Charlies with black eyes to be found in all 



ANNUS M1RABILI9. 2>J 

Piccadilly; some of them with no eye at all, except 
to their own interest. Mr. Pope enacted the ghost 
of Banquo in Macbeth : he made a very spirited and 
lively apparition. Valentine's day ; postmen op- 
pressed with a weight of delicate embarrassments, 
and shops pleasantly replete with bleeding hearts, 
and Cupids in buckskin breeches, Lord v. Lady 
Portsmouth at the Court of Chancery ; his Lordship 
convicted of black jobs and bell-ringings; Mr. Bell 
rung the changes in his (the Plaintiff's) favour; ex- 
penses of the whole suit only 30,0002. Pioneers, an 
American novel, published by Murray ; exceedingly 
interesting to those who can comprehend it. Lord 
Clanmorris failed in his attempts to become a fash- 
ionable Corinthian — "Non cuivis homini contingit 
adire Corinthum." Warren's Blacking much circu- 
lated in Scotland. 

March. — London rapidly improving in the number 
of its fashionable arrivals. Mr. Bochsa highly at- 
tractive as usual in the oratorios at Drury-Iane. 
Symptoms of modesty in Blackwood's Magazine ; ut- 
terly disbelieved by Mr, Hazlitt. Only one novel 
from the author of Waverley. A Scotch apothecary 

in Street invited a friend to dinner and sate him 

down to a bottle of castor-oil ; observing, by way of 
consolation, that the welcome was every thing. 
Sheridan's comedy of the School for Scandal revived 
at Drury Lane; the part of Charles Surface exqui- 
sitely performed by Mr. Elliston, in every respect 
but that of resemblance to the character. 4t Buy 



94 AN.NUS M1RAB1LIS. 

Warren's Blacking" discovered written up on the 
ruins of the Coliseum, a picturesque proof of its 
popularity. 

ApriL— All Fools' day. (26)— Mrs. Siddons did 
an abridgment of Paradise Lost, and left out the 
character of Satan, to prove her abhorrence of Mr. 
Southey's " Satanic School. " The Lord Chancellor 
came to a decision. John Bull Newspaper accused 
Lord Holland of being a Zephyr. A shipload of 
Peverils of the Peak landed at the Custom House. 
An Irish bog took a fancy to see the world, and 
eloped from the country where it was born and edu- 
cated ; Mr. Martin's estates went with it. Exhibi- 
tion of water colors opened with some splendid mas- 
terpieces by Glover. Heliacal rising of Thomas 
Moore and his three angels, but being somewhat de- 
fective in point of wings, they shared the fate of Ica- 
rus, and dropped into the waters of oblivion. " Buy 
Warren's Blacking" chalked up on every wall of the 
metropolis. 

May.-~ High season of fashion at the west end. 
Exhibition at Somerset House, much discussed to 
the imminent neglect of the weather. Marriage Act 
universally deprecated, in consequence of the gene- 
rality of females being averse to see their weakness 
made manifest on the church doors. Haydon put 
forth his picture of the Raising of Lazarus, but found 
it more difficult to raise the wind than to raise the 
dead; scanty show of visitors, though the artist is of 



ANNUS MIRABILIS. 95 

first-rate celebrity, and wears no cravat. (27) Grand 
fight for the championship of England between Spring 
and IVeate. Meeting at the Free- Mason's tavern in 
favor of the Spaniards and consequent altercation 
between Messieurs Hunt and Rowcroft. A masque- 
rade at the Opera House, where a nobleman, in mak- 
ing love to a masked lady, kissed his own wife by 
mistake; he has been a sincere penitent ever since. 
Discovery of a witch in Devonshire. Almack's and 
Warren's Blacking in their zenith of fashionable no- 
toriety. 

June. — Elegant display of female equestrians in 
the Park. Mrs Coutts still a widow. Subscription 
in behalf of the Spaniards, towards which one patriot 
contributed a pair of old shoes. Treadmill and Mr, 
Scarlett in equal practice. New number of The 
Liberal made its appearance in the literary horizon, 
but proved to be a star shorn of its beams : " How 
are the mighty fallen !" Horrible effects of glutto- 
ny— a hog belonging to Mr. Bath, of Reading school, 
being overcome by hunger walked into the school- 
room, and deliberately devoured the writing-master. 
A shipload of Warren's Blacking sailed for Kingston, 
Jamaica, by order of the governor. 

July. — Mrs. Olivia Serres, soi-disant princess of 
Cumberland, accused by Mr. Peel in the House of 
Commons of having a brown spot under her fifth rib. 
Three new cantos of Don Juan published, and pro- 
scribed according to law. Symptoms of desertion at 
9 * 



96 ANNUS MXRABILIS. 

the west end. Sir Robert Wilson wounded at Co- 
runna, and Prince Hilt threatened with an explosion. 
A farmer at Egham accused our gracious Sovereign 
of being an "old chap-" Stocks fell Ij per cent, in 
consequence. Prince Hohenlohe commenced a se- 
ries of miracles for the season ; began his entertain- 
ments by causing a dumb Irishwoman to speak, but 
forgot the most miraculous part, to make her hold 
her tongue again. Reverend Edward Irving at- 
tempted an imitation of the famous apostrophe of 
Demosthenes (28) to the shades of the Marathon! an 
dead - he made a very Scotch Demosthenes. Orders 
received at the India House for a supply of Warren's 
blacking : intelligence reached No. 30. Strand, by a 
special messenger from the court of directors. 

August. — Saint Swithin rehearsing daily for the 
winter ; much improved in his performances, but too 
persevering in the display. Three new cantos of Don 
Juan appeared, — obliged to Hunt for a publisher. 
Melancholy solitude in the neighbourhood of Port- 
man Square. •• Desolate is the dwelling of Moina." 
A good thing discovered in the Gentleman's Maga- 
zine. Not more than twenty pairs of boots on a 
daily average heard clattering up Bond Street. 
Novel of Frankenstein diabolized at the English 
Opera House. A cockney met Lord Byron at Ge- 
noa, and having heard that he was a complete 
devil, was astonished to find him only a man Re- 
turns for Warren's blacking during the last month, 
twelve hundred pounds, exclusive of foreign agen- 
cies. 



ANNUS MIKABILISc 97 

September.— Shooting season commenced : three 
old gentlemen had their wigs shot off by a party of 
cockney sportsmen, while smoking in their wigwams 
at Hornsey Wood tavern : an old lady who was pas- 
sing in the neighbourhood, just bobbed in time to 
save the penultima of her nose, Astonishing abund- 
ance of plums, and other stone fruit ; hence Horace 
has not inaptly termed this season " Plumbeus Auc- 
tumnus," Romeo Coates, esquire, personated the 
character of Benedict, at Saint George's church, to 
the life : after the comedy, he set off with his fair 
heroine for Portsmouth, where the happy couple are 
engaged to perform the "honey moon" for a limited 
number of nights. Vauxhal! gardens closed for the 
season with only 80,000 additional lamps — ovSiv zh*{*7re. 
Warren's blacking and consols still looking up. 

October. — The Fonthiil fever eradicated, in conse- 
quence of its fashionable victims being inoculated 
instead with the Hatton Garden influenza. The fol- 
lowing advertisement made its appearance in the 
Englishman: "Mr, Smallwood's academy for young 
gentlemen, Laurence Lane, Exeter ; price of tuition 
2dper week: them as larns manners pays 2d. more." 
King of Spain restored to his throne, (29) proscribed 
one half of his subjects, and arrested the other : high- 
ly complimented on his disinterested impartiality. 
Heraldic discovery: — a special messenger arrived 
from Paris with intelligence that Warren was proved 
to be the grandson of Rousseau, by Madame de War- 
venne. This goes a great way to account for the 



98 ANNUS MIRABILIS. 

sentimental beauty of his rhythmical advertisements, 
which, as well as his blacking, are, at present, in 
great vogue among the Parisian dilletanti. 

November. — Three square yards of blue sky dis- 
covered within a mile of Eastcheap. The crowd 
was incalculable. Private theatricals projected at 
Devonshire house for the ensuing spring ; among the 
numerous histrionic performers. Lord G — — e, it is 
said, has kindly condescended to perform Bottom in 
the Midsummer Night's Dream; while the Duke of 
B— volunteers the character of Ariel in the Tem- 
pest. A fine day. Eight hundred suits of old clothes 
exported from Monmouth Street as court dresses for 
the German princes. Apothecaries' boys discovered 
flying about the city in busy anticipation of the Lord 
Mayor's dinner. Autumnal sky said to be unusually 
beautiful : very true, if one could but see it. Offi- 
cial dispatches received at Warreu's warehouse for 
a supply of blacking for the use of the United 
States. 

December. — Taylors' bills of the youug London 
swells drawing to a precipitate close, somewhere 
about the fourth page of the largest sized foolscap 
paper. No assassination of private character in the 
John Bull. A true statement discovered in Cobbett's 
Register. (30) The Bond Street loungers in a state 
of awful suspence respecting the shape of the next 
spring coat. A young lady shot her lover, as he 
stood in a sentimental attitude behind the counter of 



ANNUS MIRABILIS. 9$ 

a grocer's shop in the Borough : she is reported to 
have done it for the purpose of proving that love 
can take as sure aim with a pistol as with a bow and 
arrow, Warren closed his accounts for the year 
with a prodigious balance in his favour. Grand fete 
given on the occasion at No. 30, Strand, where the 
guests continued till a late hour, toasting (as the rest 
of the world is here invited to do,) " Success to 
Warren's Blacking," 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S. 



Br THE R. OF THE T- 



_ 



1st of Aril, 1823. 
The gallery doors were opened at twelve. The rush was 
prodigious, and the house more crowded than on any night 
since Mr. Burke's celebrated motion on Economical Reform, 
The Speaker took the chair at the usual hour. After the 
routine business was disposed of, the hour for commencing 
public matters arrived, and be then called on Mr. F) — -c. 
That gentleman arose, and spoke as follows, attention Ito'diqg 
the rest of the members mute, as of old it did whi»n rbe 
called by Dr. Johnson 4t the first Whig," addressed certain 
Stygian council. 



"Mr. Speaker, 
<c In proposing a reduction of the expences attend- 
ing Mr. Warren's blacking, as it is used for the army, 
and more particularly for the regiments of Horse 
Guards, I feel it but right to state, that 1 am swayed 
by no interested motive whatever. For Mr. War- 
ren, indeed, though personally a stranger to him, I 
feel the highest respect ; and when 1 reflect on the 
benefits that have accrued to societv from the use of 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S. 102 

bis invaluable commodity, that respect is increased 
almost to veneration. (Cries of hear, hear,) Still 
less, Sir, am I averse to the necessary expenditure 
of the army ; I look upon it as an exceedingly useful 
institution, and should be sorry, even for an instant, 
to speak against it. But when England is manifestly 
going to ruin, when the most unprincipled waste pre- 
vails in every department of government, (loud 
cheers from the Opposition), when, as on a late me- 
lancholy occasion, the state room of a deceased 
queen is hung with black velvet, though broad cloth 
would have been handsome enough, I feel it my 
bounden duty to protest against such profligate ex- 
travagance. Upon this principle I shall to-night 
bring forward my long-promised motion relative to 
the estimates of Mr. Warren's blacking, firmly per- 
suaded that the expences attending it may be great- 
ly reduced. 

I shall begin by enumerating the sum total of the 
whole of what is technically termed the Horse 
Guards. On examination it will be found, I be- 
lieve, that the regiments properly so called, are 
four, and if we allow each regiment, on a hasty 
calculation, to be 800 strong, (to say nothing of 
the baud), and multiply this 800 by four, we shall 
have a clear product of no less than 3200 men, 
all of whom are in the contant habit of using 
Warren's blacking. This, sir, to say the least of 
it, and provided that only shoes were the articles 
polished, would be an intolerable expense; but 



102 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^* 

what shall we say when told, that the ministry, as 
if in mockery of reform, (hear, hear^ from Sir F. 
B- — — compel the four regiments to wear jack 
boots. Now the motion I have the honour to 
make, regards these very articles, and proposes 
that they be henceforth cleaned but twice a week, 
on a presumption that the country would be ma- 
terially benefited by the alteration. This pre- 
sumption is much strengthened by the following 
statements, by which it appears that 3200 pairs of 
jack boots are at present daily polished, and that 
the consequent expences (allowing one pot of 
blacking, price sixpence, to be used between three 
pairs), are 9733J. 6s. Sd. per annum. But if we 
restrict this extravagance to twice a week, the 
expenditure would then be 277 U. 12s», whereby 
there would be an annual saving of 696H. 14s. 8d. 
Again, on a supposition that the jack boots are 
abridged to Wellingtons, and these Wellingtons 
cleaned in like manner but twice a week, to wit, 
on Fridays and Sundays, the expences would then 
be 923/. 175. 8d., making on the whole a reduction 
of 8809J. 95. per annum. I must not, however, for- 
get to mention, that in this statement there is an 
odd sixpence over, which, after every necessary re- 
trenchment has been made, may be fairly divided 
between the Chancellor and Lord Liverpool. 

I am far from meaning offence to Mr. Warren 
by any proposal to reduce the sale of his article ; I 
acknowledge its unrivalled merit, and comparative 



103 

cheapness, but still I have a paramount duty to per- 
form, to which I feel that I must sacrifice all private 
affections. And here, in passing, I cannot refrain 
from noticing a fresh instance of the profligacy of 
government. The allowance that they make to the 
officers of the Guards (hear, hear, from Lord 
P 7i), is ruinous beyond all bounds. Not con- 
tent with a wholesome and sensible repast? (31) they 
must needs give them coffee, ham, eggs, chocolate, 
orange marmalade, and gooseberry jam, according 
even to their own bill of fare, which I have seen, and 
which actually measures 36 feet, S inches, and 7-8ths 
in length, by 2 feet, 7 inches, and 3-4ths in breadth. 
In the patriotic days of England, in the days of Eli- 
zabeth and Burleigh, our military would have scorn- 
ed such effeminate luxuries ; but on the simplest and 
cheapest species of food, would have cherished a 
stomach fit either for fighting or for feasting. Now, 
however, the case is altered, and if our Guards ever 
condescend to eat beef they cut it from the sides of 
John Bull himself. I call upon the house then to 
desist from these ravenous attacks ; I call upon them 
to do justice, though late, to an impoverished nation, 
nnd by way of commencement, to limit the Guards 
to one pound of fresh meat, and one pint of porter 
per diem, convinced that none but a shark or an al- 
derman could possibly digest more. 

Having thus noticed the unprincipled breakfasts 
of the soldiery, I shall once again revert to the 
especial extravagance of their jack boots and black- 
10 



104 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S. 

ing. The house will see throughout my speech, 
that I have linked these two latter items together, 
and my reason for so doing is because I consider 
them, like man and wife, so inseparably united in 
interest, that if one tails, the other must follow. 
The observation 1 have to'make respecting them is, 
that during his majesty's late levees at Holyrood 
house, there was not one jack boot visible, although 
the flower of the kingdom was in attendance, and 
even the sovereign himself was pleased to declare 
that the Scotch were a nation of gentlemen* This 
clearly proves that the most accomplished personage 
in the realm, considers jack boots iu nowise essential 
to gentility ; and that they are much less elegant 
than Wellingtons, all who bear me will, I am sure, 
be willing to admit. In furtherance, then, of their 
immediate abridgment, I shall beg leave to introduce 
the following series of resolutions ; all of which, how- 
ever unconnected they may appear, tend to the same 
grand cause of retrenchment. {Mr, H — e then read 
the following statements . 

1. That it seems, by returns to this bouse, that the 
expences attending the use of Warren's blacking in 
four regiments alone, are 9733L 6s. 3d. per annum, 
and that a great part of this expense is occasioned 
by the jack boots of the Horse Guards- 

2. That from the size of these jack boots, the time 
of the Horse Guards must be necessarily employed 

in cleaning them, whereby a spirit of vaaity is e 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^*. 105 

couraged, to the neglect of good order and disci- 
pline. 

3. That an humble address be presented to his ma- 
jesty, imploring him to order an enquiry to be made 
into the estimates of Warren's blacking, for the pur- 
pose of ascertaining how far they are influenced by 
these jack boots. 

4. That his majesty will graciously command these 
jack boots to be abridged into Wellingtons, to be 
worn only on field days, and to be cleaned only twice 
a week. 

5. That by and through the advice of the lords 
spiritual and temporal, and his own faithful commons, 
his majesty will propose a premium to any who will 
undertake to clean these jack boots by steam. 

6. That the house considers all these resolutions 
essential to the dignity of the crown, and the glory 
and happiness of the people. 

(Towards the close of this speech, the majority of the 
commons awoke from a deep sleep, which the hon. 
membpr's eloquence had occasioned. All parties rub- 
bed their eyes, and among other singular appearances 
that the house at this moment exhibited, our reporter 

says that if, was quite beautiful to see Mr. B m and 

Mr. C g nodding to each other like two sisters 9 

from different sides of the house. He adds, that Mv 



J 06 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN > 

B ?n's countenance displayed an air of the most 

touching resignation, and formed a striking contrast 
to the brazen beauties of Mr. C — — r. Even the 
Speaker appeared to have caught the general infection, 
till starting up with an air of profound attention, he 
exclaimed. M Is this motion seconded ?" upon which Mr, 

B m rose and addressed the house. The following 

is a tolerably correct report of his speech, although 
candour compels us to assert that he was occasional- 
ly inaudible in the galleries.) 

In seconding the motion which my hon. friend has 
this night thought proper to bring forward, I cannot 
deny myself the pleasure of doing justice to his pub- 
lic services in the cause of retrenchment and reform. 
On the present occasion, these services have been 
truly unprecedented, and he has laid before us such 
atrocious proofs of profligacy, — of a profligacy une- 
qualled in the corruptest ages of the world, when the 
world itself was sunk in the very lowest abyss of all 
possible corruption, the corruption of the Roman Ne- 
ro, {hear, hear, from Mr. D n), that the human 

mind literally shudders to detail them. In this dis- 
tressing predicament, I shall once more offer an ap- 
peal to the common sense of the house, well aware 
that though, by so doing, I appeal to an alarming mi- 
nority, I still speak the indignant language of a 
prostituted, insulted, and inconceivably impoverished 
nation. ^Loud cheers from the Opposition.) 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S 107 

My lion, friend has contented himself by question- 
ing the propriety of this singular and superlative 
extravagance ; but I shall descend to more minute 
particulars, by showing its positive and pernicious 
consequences. It is a well accredited fact, sir, that 
Warren's blacking possesses the lucid properties of 
a mirrer, and when rightly applied to leather, lends it 
an inexpressible polish. Now supposing that our 
Horse Guards have already made this discovery, — a 
discovery as palpable as the characteristic activity of 
our chancellor, — is it not highly probable that, from 
motives of economy, they will forthwith dispense 
with mirrors ? And if this omission is to take place 
in four full regiments of Guards alone, — to say no- 
thing of the band, as my hon, friend observed* and a 
more accomplished band of brigands never yet dis- 
turbed the patience of an insulted nation, a patience 
equalled only by the identical animal that chews the 
thistle ; — if, I repeat, this diabolical omission is to 
take place, is it not as notorious as the corruption of 
parliament, — (and what can be more notoriously cor- 
rupt ?) — that the glass manufacturers must be ruin- 
ed? We all know the contemptible caprice of that 
senseless idol, fashion ; and I make no doubt, that 
if Warren's blacking be encouraged among these Prae- 
torian guards to its present extent, — an extent de- 
structive alike to the country and the crown, to the 
country from its precedent, and to the crown from its 
absurdity, — we shall see mirrors universally discard- 
ed. Let me intreat this house then to reflect, so- 
lemnly reflect, ere it sanction such notable injustice, 
JSvery manufacturer, be he who or what he may, 
10* 



108 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^. 

merits equally the encouragement of Parliament ; 
but why sacrifice hundreds to the interests of one in- 
dividual ? Did the house, let me ask, ever see the 
individual for whose gains it is thus shamefully soli- 
citous ? [32) If they did, they will not easily forget 
him, for a more horrible and hoary wretch exists not 
on the face of the earth. The never-to-be forgotten 
expression of that eye— that nose— that mouth,— the 
muddy channels of those cheeks,— channels to which 
Fleet ditch were a river of paradise, and a horse pond 
a fountain of the Nile,— all— all betoken the pander 
to public prodigality. Yet this is the man,— this 
the Eblis, — this the Juggernaut of commerce, un- 
der whose overwhelming influence its very life-blood 
must be crushed out. Ob ! let it not be said that 
the corrupt partialities which taint our political 
constitution could, even iu this humble instance, so 
effectually blight its character as to sink it in eter- 
nal condemnation at the tribunal of after ages. (The 
anfui solemnity of this address drew thunders of ap- 
plause from all parts cf the house.) 

But despite the opposition of government, — op- 
posed as it is from some curious obliquity of princi- 
ple, that is to say, if extravagance can be called prin- 
ciple, to every motion that savours of reform — de- 
spite, I say, this most brazenfaced opposition, I am 
not without hopes that one at least of my bon. 
friend's resolutions may succeed. In the highest 
quarter, whence all gentility derives its origin, an 
amiable predilection has lately been evinced in fa- 
Tour of tight shoes. This predilection, influenced no 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^. 109 

doubt by motives of patriotic economy, is evidently 
intended for imitation, and I move, in consequence, 
that our soldiery be compelled to follow the discreet 
example, with an assurance to the house— if the 
house yet feel an interest in the prosperity of the 
kingdom— that at the end of the year there will be 
a truly astonishing reduction. I do not address my- 
self to Lord Liverpool on the subject, because I con- 
sider him a staunch member of the opposition ; and 
still less do I apply to the honourable secretary for 
foreign affairs, when I reflect that in every— -even 
the most triOing instance of his diplomacy, — he has 
exhibited more monstrous specimens of incredible 
truckling than the whole history of Parliamentary 
tergiversation — fruitful as it is in such obliquities- 
can parallel. 

Mr. C — g.— That's a lie. 

{Here the confusion and cries of " order, order" 

became general; Mr. B m rose to depart, and 

the whole business seemed likely to have a hostile 
termination. Anxious, however, to restore harmo- 
ny, the member for Corfe Castle modestly proposed, 
that the disputants should cool themselves by perus- 
ing each two chapters of his "Constitutional Histo- 
ry of Rome." A punishment so heavily dispropor- 
tioned to the offence alarmed the compassionate jus- 
tice of the whole house; and Sir J. M — — -h, in 
tones of the kindest sympathy, was heard to whis- 
per something about the Criminal Code and the Law 



110 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S. 

of Nations. An awful pause ensued, during which 

Mr. W e slipped behind Mr. B m, and 

thrust into his hand the <• Whole Duty of Man" 

while Mr. B—tt — h presented Mr. C g with 

" Baxter's Call to' the Unconverted. 91 Order being 
at length restored by an indirect apology from Mr. 
C- — -g, and a few words respecting the rules of the 

house melodiously expounded by Mr. W w, and 

enforced with equal beauty of intonation by his bro- 
ther, Sir W. W. W n f Mr. B— — m thus pro- 
ceeded:) 

The more deeply I reflect on the notable proceed- 
ings of our all-accomplished ministry, the morel feel 
impressed with the necessity of severest retrench- 
ment. Had Mr. Burke been still alive, he would have 
agreed with me, I am persuaded, in opinion, and by 
way of commencement would have pulled off the 
jack boots of our Horse Guards — with or without 
boot jacks , as it may have suited the emergency of 
the case, — if indeed, any case was ever before re- 
duced to so deplorable an emergency, an emergency 
proceeding from the superlative follies of govern- 
ment, of a government notorious for every species of 
gratuitous infamy — Mr. Burke, I repeat (33), would 
have commenced his labours by abridging, in the first 
place, the above-mentioned extravagance of our 
Guards; secondly, by applying his cautery to the 
diseased members of our city institutions — provided 
at least, that precious body corporate be not already 
too far advanced in the lowest stages of political pu- 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^. Ill 

f refaction ;— and, thirdly, by a radical overthrow of 
that carnivorous band of corpulence and voracity, 
the beefeaters, (a groan from Sir W— C — s), who 
under the present delectable regime are kept* like 
hyaenas at Brookes's, to eat up the garbage of go- 
vernment. To the members of this house then, in- 
dividually and collectively, I address myself, ear- 
nestly hoping that they will commence a similar 
task of retrenchment—- if indeed retrenchment be 
not yet too late, too late, I mean, in allusion to the 
time that has elapsed since it was first found to be 
necessary, necessary, I would observe both to the 
two houses of parliament and the nation in general, 
general, I would add, in the most extended meaning 
of the term— and I here pour forth my fervent sup- 
plications at the throne of mercy (Hear, hear, from 

Messrs. W e and B — it — h) that the strong arm 

of government may be palsied, and its late intole- 
rant acts — acts fit only for a Ferdinand or a fiend 
—be forcibly crammed down the aesophagus of the 
bungling artisans who framed them. 

(Mr. B m concluded his speech amid loud 

cheers from all parts of the house, during which the 

Speaker retired. On his return, Mr. C -g rose, 

and addressed the house as follows :) 

As the lateness of the hour prevents me from en- 
tering into any specific detail on the subject of this 
night's debate, I shall make but a temporary tres- 
pass on the indulgent attention of the House, The 



!]2 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^, 

topic in fact requires no support from the flimsy ful- 
crum of adventitious argument, for, like the sacred 
edifice that was erected on the rock, (Hear, hear, 

from Messrs. W e and B — it — h) it rests upon 

the adamantine basis of strict political expediency. 
Every plan, however, is more or less the victim of 
insidious misconstruction, and as the watchful mem- 
ber for Aberdeen has cackled his apprehensions to 
the nation, it may be expected that I should enume- 
rate my reasons for refusing to acquiesce in the jus- 
tice of his anserine alarum. In the first place, Sir 9 
I have held repeated consultations with the law offi- 
cers on the subject, [Here Mr. H — b — e snapped his 
fingers contemptuously) and though the hon. member 
for Westminster, with wit at his fingers ends, (a 
laugh) expends it on my Egerian advisers, yet I can 
assure him that the judgment of a solicitor-general 
is in no respect deserving of the contumely which 
his Furor Digitalis would irapiy. He (the solicitor- 
general) informs me. that any reduction in the ex- 
penditure of Warren's Blacking, or any abridgement 
in the perpendicular altitude of the jack boots, would 
involve our colossal dominions in the inextricable 
horrors oi : anarchy, rebellion, and revolution. (Hear, 
hear, from the country members.) That if the ar- 
my, for instance, ever insisted on the wear of a clean 
shirt but once during the vicissitudes of a month, 
they would justify the innovation on good manners 
by the penurious precedent of Warren's Blacking. 
That if by any caprice inherent in the peccant na- 
ture of mortality, they were desirous to curtail the 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^. 113 

luxuriant abundance of their coat flaps, or dispensing 
with the etiquette of breeches, permit them to be 
worn solely by their wives, (o laugh) they would 
plead in excuse the corresponding abridgement of 
the jack boots. Now, Sir, although in days of yore, 
when the gathering gloom of his couutry's fortunes 
adumbrated the Athenian lustre of bis politeness, it 
might be pardonable in the Greek warrior Isadas to 
rush unattired to battle, jet we must all allow that a 
regiment of such denuded patriots would be an ob- 
ject more notorious for the quaintness of its effect 
than the propriety of its institution. 

Ah ! Corydon, Corydon, quaa te dementia cepit? 

In discussing the enormous expenditure attendant, 
as he assures us, on Warren's Blacking, the hon. 
member for Winchelsea has compelled its most de- 
cided recommendation to assume the unfavourable 
aspect of a defect. Like the scorpion of suicidal 
notoriety, he has committed murder on his cause by 
the destructive infelicity of his argument. He has 
objected to it on the score of its lucid and reflective 
capabilities, and informed us, with a pathos peculiar 
to himself, that it has encroached on the province of 
a mirror, to the detriment of glass manufacturers. 
Waviug every topic of private grievance, which, 
however important to individuals, is yet of insuffi- 
cient weight to attract the attention of legislature, I 
am prepared to prove, that by thus emulating the 
properties of glass, it has withdrawn from the shoiri- 



114 WARREN AT SALNT STEPHEN^ 

ders of the nation an exhausting Atlas of expence. 
According to the military regulations, as laid down 
in the stat. Geo. III. cap. 12. every barrack is plac- 
ed under the superintending providence of a master, 
who is directed to supply it with furniture, in which 
mirrors are especially included, at the cost of the 
British nation. That arrangement, I am happy to 
inform the house, has now gone to the sepulchral 
abode of all the Capulets, for jack boots, anointed 
with the refreshing dew of Warren's Blacking, are 
found to answer every purpose of a suitable and suc- 
cessful equivalent. In order to corroborate my 

statement, I have the authority of Colonel W , of 

the Guards, who informed me but yesterday, that 
for three uninterrupted weeks he had mown the ad- 
hesive thistles of his chin through the enlightened 
medium of his jack boots, and that the whole mess 
had put on their black stocks and stays by the same 
luminous assistance. (Loud cheers.) 

The process of my speech has now brought me to 
that particular branch of the hon. mover's philippic, 
in which he proposes that, for the purpose of facili- 
tating business, the boots of the Horse Guards should 
be polished by the intervention of steam. And here 
I beg it to be observed, that, as I am a partisan of 
qualified innovation, I will cheerfully add my vote to 
the resolution, with the proviso that its boasted ad- 
vantages be previously positively and practically 
established. But why does the hon. member for 
Aberdeen restrict the terms of his proposition to the 



115 

individual article of jack boots ? If the operation of 
steam be so speedy as he would seem to insinuate, in 
the name of heaven (Hear, hear, from Messrs. 

W e and B—ti—h) let him apply its energies to 

his own eternal orations, and I will answer, that, 
provided it accelerates their utterance, it will be 
carried by a triumphant majority, {Loud laughter.) 
I do not however wish to damp his amiable enthu- 
siasm ; far from it, sir, I applaud it to the very echo, 
but strenuously exhort him to confine his specula- 
tions to himself, instead of attempting, by the chao- 
tic confusion of his logic, to transform the Metropoli- 
tan barracks into museums of animal curiosities. In 
the course of his professional career, the hon. mover 
may probably recollect the well-known theory of the 
transfusion of blood from one body to another by- 
means of a pipe or quill, or some such circulating 
medium. Upon this principle, the fluid of a for 
transfused into the veins of a goose or a common 
council man would endow them with its vulpine ac- 
complishments, and I have heard that a late member 
of opposition, being vaccinated with the blood of one 
of the *' long-eared brethren," brayed an eloquent 
oration to the astonishment of both bouses of Parlia- 
ment. (A laugh%\ Now, sir, however apocryphal it 
may appear, I can scarcely refrain from hazarding my 
conjecture, that the hon. mover has been inoculated 
with the blood of a beaver, (loud laughter) and that 
this very transfusion has inspired him with a corre- 
sponding mania for constructing architectural so- 
phisms. He has this evening in particular erected a 
U 



116 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S, 

Pons asinorum (a laugh) for the use of the opposi- 
tion, over which he anticipates a free passage to the 
Treasury Bench. But let me assure htm, that the 
piles of argument on which he has erected his bridge, 
have an imbecile foundation in the sand, and when 
the rains come and the floods descend, [Hear, hear* 
from Messrs. W e and B—tt—h,) 

Shall melt into air, into thin air, 
And, like the baseless fabric of a vision. 
Leave not a wreck behind, 

I shall detain the house no longer than to return 
my thanks for the indulgence with which I have been 
honoured, and to request its unanimous support in 
outvoting the resolutions of the hon. member for 
Aberdeen, convinced as I am, that, although " Fun- 
di t humus flores," (a laugh) although he pour forth 
the blossoms of his logic with more than ordinary 
profusion, yet it is the deadly blossom of the upas 
which festers in the brain of the unguarded novice 
who ventures within its pestilential circumference. 
Even now, its envenomed ardour impregnates the at- 
mosphere around us, and we should be worse than 
traitors to our country and our king were we to 
pause in the hour of our peril. As a national bles- 
sing, Warren's Blacking is entitled to our gratitude, 
and as the scientific Archimedes of England, its ma» 
nufacturer enforces our veneration. In the name of 
justice, then, be he loved, in the name of genius ho- 
noured, and in the name of Britain reverenced! 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S. 117 

Long be his illustrious patronymic the symbol of vir- 
tue and of art; and while from clime to clime, from 
the aestive regions of the Eastern Ind to the hyber- 
nal hemisphere of either Pole, the nations of the 
earth uplift their voices in his praise, let England 
«cho back the strain, till one wide acclamatory cho- 
rus rings, a millenial trumpet, through the world. 

i 
{Loud cheering from all parts of the house, followed 
the conclusion of the hon. Secretary's speech, after 

which Sir W—m C s rose, and addressed the house 

to the following effect :) 

I can't for the life of me help saying a small mat- 
ter upon the subject of this night's debate, but at the 
same time as I arn't over nice in point of tongue, I 
shall say it as speedy and as soon as possible. Fine 
words butter no parsnips, and if so be I'm a bit be- 
hind hand in flummery, 1 will at least make up for it 
in common sense. What boots it, as the shoemaker 
said, how we talk, if we talk to the point ? For my 
part, I stand only on facts, and quite blush for the 
hon. members of opposition, when, not content with 
cutting up the jack boots of the Horse Guards, they 
bother us about the expenses of blacking them. 
Now, the long and short of the business is, that War- 
ren's Blacking is dirt-cheap, for it not only saves 
scores of pounds in the matter of they mirrors, but 
stirs up other manufacturers besides. For instance 
now, the success of Robert Warren has lately 
brought forward another one, who goes and poaches. 



118 WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN^. 

as it were, in the same Warren, and then comes and 
takes a house under the very nose of his rival. {Loud 
laughter.) And what, you'll ask, is the consequence 
of such opposition ? Why, that by this here Warren 
trying to outdo that there Warren, both W T arrens 
are obliged to mind their P's and Q's ; which we all 
know they need not do, if so be that there was never 
no opposition. Opposition, sir, except in Parlia- 
ment, is the very life of trade, and is just as neces- 
sary as marriage {A "pensive smile from Mr. C -e 

of Norfolk) to propagate business. I intreat the 
house then to do away with the resolutions of the 
hon. member for Aberdeen. The country is in a na- 
tion flourishing state, for our Aldermen were never 
so fat as now, and in my last voyage to Ramsgate, l 
was pleased to see as how the Corporation of the dif- 
ferent towns where I stopped to lay in provisions, 
seemed some pounds fatter than the year before. 
But independent of all this, iet the bouse look at the 
charming appearance of things in general- Lei 
them only look at the swinging stock of turtles as is 
daily sold- and see the high price as venison fetches. 
Not but what I can bring a thousand other proofs 
of our increasing trade, besides the mere matter of 
eating ; only as I feel myself more at home in that 
ere line of argument, I feel more justified in using it. 
(Laughter from all sides of the house.) By the bye 9 
this reminds me of the hon, member for Winchel- 
sea's proposal to dish the city feasts. My God, what 
an idea! Do away with the city feasts, and you 
does away with government, for the constitution of 



WARREN AT SAINT STEPHEN'S. 119 

England requires every bit as much nourishment as 
the constitution of Aldermen. For my part, Sir, I 

have only to pray (Hear, hear, from Messrs. W e 

and B—tt—h) that I may never live to see that ere 
awful hour when turtle-soup shall cease to be the 
crack dish at Guildhall. [The touching emphasis 
with which the hon. Baronet delivered this sentence, 
drew tears from the eyes of many <f the country gen- 
tlemen.) I come now to the subject of our national 
poverty. And, first, the hon. mover assures us as 
how England is ruined, a fact, however, that sticks in 
my throat like Amen in Macbeth's, which, as far as 
I can learn, was nothing more than a piece of dry 
toast as had gone the wrong way. Moreover, he 
(Mr, H — e) says, that Reform alone can save us ; to 
which I reply, in the words of Homer, !■• Credat Ju- 
dy ;" that may be Judy's creed, but I thank heaven 
it arn't mine. Once again, then, I beseech the house 
to vote against the reduction of Warren's Blacking. 
We have no need of reduction in no shape. John 
Bull, as I showed just now, is better off than ever ; 
the tread-mill and the new churches are as full as 
they can hold ; the Orphan's Fund is turned into a 
sort of Sinking Fund, for the use of them as can dip 
deep enough for she ; good wholesome water may be 
had at Aldgate Pump for nothing; the beggars 
(thank God) are all hanged, and a new Old Bailey is 
being built for the rest ; and, in short, the whole 
country resembles the place described by those 
charming authors, "The Elegant Extracts," where 
11 * 



12,0 WARREN AT SAIflT STEPHEN^. 

The turtle wantons with the ape* 
The deer frisks in the dell, 
And vineyards with the tender grape, 
Give out a goodly smell. 

Upon a due consideration of these advantages, I 
think it but right to vote against the reduction of 
Warren's Blacking. 

{When the hon. Baronet had finished, Mr. H—e 
briefly replied, after which the galleries were cleared 
for a division. The Numbers were as follow : For 
Mr. U— e's proposition to reduce Warren's Black' 
ing f 32 

Against it> 133 

Majority against it t 121 

The other Orders of the Day were then disposed of 
md the house adjourned at 2 o'Clock*} 



THE 

BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN, 

A POEM IN TWO CANTOS. 

Br Sir W— S— . 



A few years since, in the autumn of 1818, a serious affray 
took place between those illustrious rivals, Warren, and Day 
and Martin, (34) on the subject of their respective pre-emi- 
nence. The parties, as I learn from the black-letter record of 
the fray, met at Brentford, and after «• a well-foughten field," 
victory was decided in favour of the former chieftain. In the 
present commemoration of that chivalrous event, I have taken 
the liberty of adding a few particulars and persons, for the pur- 
pose of elevating my subject, a principle which induced me to 
raise a fictitious superstructure on the historical ground- work of 
Marinion. With respect to localities, it may be proper to ob- 
eerve, that the scene of Canto I. is laid in the refectory, or 
banquet-hall of Number 30, Strand ; while the operations of 
the Second are carried on in the vicinity of Brentford. The 
time of action employed in each Canto occupies one day. 



CANTO FIRST. 

Pie Wxtmil. 
1, 

Day set on Regent Street, Pall Mall, 
Bathed Westminster's emblazoned hall 
In one wide ruddy glow ; 



122 THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN. 

Lit up the brazen Hand-in-Hand 
Fire-office, eastward of the Strand, 

And gilt Saint George's Row; 
The Warren's sign boot e'rst so gay, 
Slow darkled as the darkling day, 

Less wide and less was flung ; 
Each weary gale its task gave o'er, 
And failed to wave it o'er the door, 

So heavily it hung, 
Suspended in sepulchral state, 
As knave from Newgate's donjon grate, 

2. 
Within his hall the Warren stood, 

In raiment trim bedight, 
Arranging in reflective mood, 

The wassail of the night • 
Meantime his friends yspeed them down 
From each far quarter of the town, 
Those sister ditches, Houns and Shore, 
Rival Saint Giles in choicest store 

Of guests, a motley band, 
And Buuhill Fields, and Rotten Row, 
The Hills of Saffron and of Snow, 
From Newgate Street, to church of Bow, 

Join issue in the Strand. 
Smiles the grey eve, an infant yet, 

On many a squad complete, 
Of gig, cart, coach, and cabriolet, 

Loud thundering down the street ; 
Starts the pedestrian with surprise, 



THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN'* 123 

Condemns the tar his hapless eyes, 
While on the passing pageant hies 

To where the Warren's name, * 
Dim shadowed 'neath the twilight pale. 
Appears (strange paradox) to veil 

Its brazen charms for shame. — 
The band approached its Strand abode ; 
The street door slogan clattered loud, 
And many a beauteous border maid, (35) 
Stole cautious peep from palisade, 
As one by one each guest drew nigh 
The Warren's rich refectory. 

3. 
Eight and thirty stalwart wights 

Sate within his banquet hall, 
Eight and thirty flickering lights 

Streamed around each chequered wall ; 
Flaunted their rays on spangled can, 
Like cannon flash on Barbican, 

Or Dian in her summer mood ; 
And bathed in rich effulgent flood, 

Sofa, settee, and wickered chair, 
Till bursting forth in radiance rare, 

Henchman and host, and wassail wight, 

Shone beautiful beneath the light, 

* Mr. Robert Warren's name and address, carved in brass 
letters on the proud front ofjhis abode, exhibits a remarkable 
feature in the alphabetical beauties of the Strand* 



124 THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN. 

4. 
'Tis fit that I should tell you what 

These gentles had to eat. 
How ale went round, and how, God wot, 

The tables groaned with meat. 
Suffice to say, that trim sirloin 
Of bullock proud in death to join, 

WithTaddish of the horse; 
Flanked by a soup's embossed tureen, 
And eke by cauliflower of mien, 
Winsome and white as e'er was seen 
From Hounslow Heath to Turnham Green, 

Adorned the firstling course ; 
While ale in mantling goblets glowed, 
And furnished frolic as it flowed. 

5. 
"Nov? tune me a stave," quoth Robert Warren, 

To an elder at his side, 
And stoutly as he gave the call, 

Each guest the wassail plied ; 
Uprose that elder at the call, 

A tuneful wight was he, 
As ever startled London Wall 

With vigorous harmonie ; 
He sang how he of Eld had been 
On pilgrimage to Richmond Green, 
How Highgate tunnel he had seen, 

And trod the Brixton Mill ; 
Had roamed o'er Windsor's castle steep, 
Saint George's tower, and Donjon keep, 



THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEtf. 125 

Had paced the walls that round it sweep, 
And rolled down Greenwich bill. 

6. 
The whiles he sang, with needless din, 
A stalworth stranger clatter'd in, 

Right valiant was his tread ; 
No time for summons or for call, 
For stark he stood amid them all, 

Like warlock from the dead. 
He looked disturbed and pale as death, 
But this mote be from want of breath ; 
He looked as scant as Ettrick witches, (36) 
But this mote be from want of breeches : 
Thoughtful he stood, and while a shout 
Rung through the hall of '* Turn him out," 
With scorn he eyed each clamorous guest, 
And fearless, thus the host addressed : 



" What, ho, sir Knight, attend thy doom* 

For terrible in wrath I come, 

To tell thee here within thine home, 

That though by advertising, 
Hast dulled the Day and Martin's fame, 
Descried their worth, assailed their name^ 
And puffed, — I say it to thy shame, — 

With impudence surprising. 
Thus quoth each angered chieftain then, 
Go, beard the robber in his den, 

Joe Higgins, (meaning me.) 



12£> THE BATTLE OF BEENTFORD GREEK- 

And challenge him to feudal fight, 
On Monday morn, all in the sight 
Of Brentford's chivalrie." 

8. 
On Warren's cheek the flush of rage, 
O'ercame the look of wisdom sage ; 
Fierce he broke forth, "And dar'st thou then 
To brave the lion in his den, 

The Warren in his hall ? 
And hop'st thou hence unthreshed to go? 
No, by Saint George of England, no ! 
Up, gemmen, up, what, shop-boy, ho I 

Let the street-door bar fall." 
Too late it fell, for Higgins flew, 
Like goblin elf, the passage through ; 
While thus with changing cheek and eye, 
#The Warren closed his grim reply, 
" Back, craven, to your chieftains hie, 
Ill-favoured wights, and say that I, 
I, Robert of the sable hand, 
And lord of Number Thirty, Strand, 

Obey their summons to the fight, 
And will on Monday morn, despite 

Their mercenary mob, 
Like cataract on their squadrons rush, 
With banner, broom, and blacking brush ; 

1 will, so help me Bob !" 



THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN, 127 

9. 
He ceased, and light as summer vapour, . 
The Higgins vanished in a caper, 

Then hied him on his way, 
And at thy ba s, High Holborn, told 
The bluff reply of Warren bold, 

To Martin and to Day. — 
Meanwhiles the guests sat quaffing, till 
Saint Paul's, far over Ludgate hill, 

Knelled forth the deep midnight. 
But when again its lengthening sound, 
The wide metropolis around, 
From Hampstead to Saint Giles's pound? 
Thence to Bayswater burying-ground, 

Struck the first hour of light, 
They parted, each with wine ymanned ? 
And silence brooded o'er the Strand, 

CANTO SECOND. 

STfte Gmtitat* 

1. 

J Tis merry — 'tis merry on Brentford Green, 
When the holiday folk are singing, 

When the lasses flaunt with lightsome mien. 
And the Brentford bells are ringing ; 

Well armed in stern unyielding mood, 

High o'er that green the Warren stood ; 
A burly man was he, 
12 



128 THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN. 

Girt round the waist with kerchief blue, 
And clad in waistcoat dark of hue, 
And thick buff jerkin gay to view, 

And breeches of the knee : 
Beside him stood his trusty band, 
With hat on head, and club in hand, 

Loud shouting to the fight ; 
'Till answering shrill, street, alley, lane, 
O'er hill and heather, wood and plain, 
Sent forth the deepened sounds again, 
With voice of giant might. 

2. 
Charge, Warren, charge ! yon battle Green, 
Glitters afar with silvery sheen, 

The lightning of the storm ; 
Where bands of braggarts bluff in mien, 
With ragged Irishmen are seen, 
Dreadful and drunken all, i ween, 

A phalanx fierce to form : 
Saint George ! It was a gallant sight, 
To ken beneath the morning light, 

The shifting lines sweep by ; 
In mailed and measured pace they sped, 
The earth gave back their hollow tread, 
'Till you mote think the enamelled dead 

Were howling to the sky. 
** Hark, rolls the thunder of the drum, 
The foe advance — they come, they come ! 
Lay on them," quoth the Day ; 



THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN. J £9 

"God for the right ! on Brentford Heath, 
Our bugle's stern and stormy breath, 
Summons to victory or to death ; 
Hurrah then, for the fray !" 

3. 

Hurrah, hurrah ! from rear to flank. 
In vengeance rung along each rank ; 
And the red banners (formed by hap 
Of two old shirts stiched flap to flap,) (37) 

Waved lordlier at the cry ; 
'Till every proud and painted scrap. 
Shivered like plume in 'prentice cap> 

Or cloud in winter sky. 
The Warren first this squad espied. 
Ranged man to man in ruffian pride, 
And to each warrior at his side 

In vaunting phrase began., 
* c Rush on, ye ragamuffins, rush,- 
All Brentford to a blacking brush* 

My fpeman leads the van.'* 

4. 
On rushed each lozel to the fight, 
Ruthless as flood from mountain height* 
The bludgeons clattered fierce and fast, 
And dealt destruction as they past, 
While high as some tall vessel's mast, 
Warren o'erlooked the shock ; 
Thence bore him back with might and mam ; 
Brickbats and bludgeons fell like rain, 



130 .THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREE.V. 

Stones, sticks, and stumps, all, all in vain, 

He stemmed them like a rock : 
His foeman chief with wary eye, 
The flickering of the fight could spy, 
And shouted as his bands he led, 

To Pat O'Thwackum at their head, (38) 
"Tbwackum, press on, — ne'er mind your scars, 
Press on, — they yield, — and oh, my stars ! 

Each nose is bleeding fast ; 
Strike, strike, — their skulls like walnuts cracking, 
For Day, for Martin, and his blacking, 

The battle cannot last." 

5. 

Vain charge ! the Warren dauntless stood, 
Though ankle deep flowed seas of blood, 

Till Thwackum fierce towards him flies, 
His breast with choler glows, 
Rage flashes from his mouth and eyes, 

And claret from his nose. 
The foemen meet, — they thump, they thwack ! 
Hark ! burst the braces on their back ! 
And, hark ! their skulls in concert crack ! 
And, hark ! their cudgels clatter, whack ! 

With repercussive shocks : 
See, see they fall, — down, down they go, 
Warren above, bis foe below, 
While high o'er all ascends the cry 
Of " Warren," " Warren," to the sky, 

And " Thwackum*' to the stocks. 



THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN. 13 J 
6. 

Oh ! for a blast of that tin horn, 

Through London streets by newsmen borne,, 

That tells the wondering host 
How murder, rape, or treason dread, 
Deftly concocted, may be read 

In Courier, Times, or Post; 
Then in dramatic verse and prose, 

The martial muse should tell 
How Warren triumphed o'er his foes, 

HowThwackum fought and fell, 
And how, despite his cartel, Day 
Hied him, like recreant, from the fray» 



'Tis done, — the victors all are gone, 
And fitfully the sun shines down 
On many a bruised and burly clown, 
The flowers of whose sweet youth is mown, 

To blossom ne'er again ; 
For e'en as grass cut down is hay, 
So flesh when drubbed to death, is clay, 
As proved each hind who slept that day 

On Brentford's crimson plain. 
Sad was the sight, for Warren's squad 
Bravely lay sprawling on the sod ; 
They scorned to turn their tails, — for why ? 
They had no tails to turn awry, 

So dropped each where he stood . 
12* 



132 THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEX, 

8. 
First Ned of Greenwich kissed the ground, 
Then Figgins from Whitechapel pound, 

Mark Wiggins from Cheapside, 
Whackum and Thwackum from Guildhall, 
The two O'Noodles from Blackwall, (39) 
Noggins the Jew from London Wall, 

And Scroggins from Saint Bride : 
Tim Bobbin tumbled as he rose, 

To join the motley chase, 
Joe Abbott, spent by W 7 arren's blows, 
Lay snug ensconced, and Danson's nose 

Was flattened to his face : 
Stubbs too, of Brentford Green the rose, (40) 

Would have essayed to pour 
On one — on all, his wrath red hot 
As blacksmith's anvil, had he not 

Been hanged the day before. 

9. 
Illustrious brave ! if muse like mine 
May bid for aye, your memories shine 

In fame's recording page ; 
Each wounded limb, each fractured head, 
Albeit tucked up in honour's bed, 

Shall live from age to agje ; 
And still on Brentford green while springs 
The daisy, while the linnet sings 

Her valentine to May, 
The sympathising hind shall tell 
Of those who fought and those who fell, 

At Brentford's grim foray. 



THE BATTLE OF BRENTFORD GREEN, 333 
10. 

2/25HfeO£ to tftr i&eatter* 

Now, gentles, fare ye well, my rede 
Hath reached an end, nor feel I need 
To add to Warren's fame, my meed 

Of laudatory rhymes ; 
Far loftier bards his praise rehearse, 
And prouder swells his daily verse 

In Chronicle or Times. 
Enough for me on summer day, 
To pipe some simple oaten lay, 
Of goblin page or border fray, 
To rove in thought through Teviotdale, 
Where Melrose wanes a ruin pale, 

(The sight and sense with awe attacking,} 
Or skim Loch Kattrine's burnished flood, 
Or wade through Grampian moor and mud, 

In boots baptized with Warren's Blacking* 



A LETTER 



THE EDITOR OF WARRENIANA. 



Johnson's Court. April 1. 1823* 
Sir, 
In answer to your polite application for a song 
in praise of Warren, we beg leave to inclose the 
following choice eulogium. Before, however, we 
ventured to do so, we made enquiries, as our duty 
to church and state demanded, into the private 
and public character of the object of our praise. 
TJie result has been prodigiously gratifying. We 
hear that he is a staunch admirer of our all-accom- 
plished ministry, holds the bench of bishops in or- 
thodox veneration, and thinks the Morning Chro- 
nicle an absurdity. As a drawback, however, to 
these virtues, we regret to state, that he suffered 
his health to be drank at Lord Waithman's late 
dinner party. To be sure, there are degrees in 
moral obliquity, but if he had gone the extreme 
length of calling the Whigs patriots, we should 
assuredly have given him up. There was one man, 
we remember, who did so, — but he was hanged. 
The fact is. Sir, we are decided enemies to Whig-! 



A LETTER TO THE EDITOR OF WARRENIANA. 13B 

ism, and still more to humbug. Plain sailing is 
our motto ; candour and openness the talismans of 
our success. We think, for instance, that England 
is more flourishing than ever, and that Alderman 
Wood is decidedly not the author of Wood's Al- 
gebra. " Non ex quovis ligno fit Mercurius." Stil! 
less, Sir, do we think, that Lord Waithman is fit 
(in the coachman's phrase) to handle the ribbands 
of government. God forbid, however, that we 
should dispute his right to handle them in his own 
shop. 

These opinions have of late subjected us to a 
host of ridiculous charges, and, among others, to 
the malice of attacking ' 6 the sanctities of private 
life." We scout the calumny. We were never 
yet malicious ; and as for attacking private cha- 
racter, it is what we especially eschew. We should 
be broken-hearted if we thought we could do so. 
We really think we should. The plain fact is, 
Sir, that we have put our hook into the gills of the 
great leviathan of Whigism, and the brute, being 
somewhat tickled, naturally spouts a vast quantity 
of his washy fluid upon us. Having thus laid down 
our principles, you may guess with what enthu- 
siasm we praised a gentleman who thought in ac- 
cordance with ourselves Apollo seemed to inspire 
our pen, and on casting up our accounts with Par- 
nassus, we found that the sum total of the whole, 
as Joseph Hume would say, was the following 
choice product, or production, or whatever other 



136 



alias you may please to affix. If it renders any 
service to Warren, we snail be amply repaid ; for, 
as we have said a hundred times, we would do any 
thing for so great and good a man. He takes in 
our newspaper, this proves his taste ; he despises 
" the bloody old Times," this evinces his loyalty ; 
he adores ministers, — ergo., he must be a patriot. 
Such being the case, we address to him the follow- 
ing song. His popularity it cannot well increase ; 
for the man who, if we may believe report, is sit- 
ting to Sir Thomas Lawrence for his portrait, and 
to his neighbour Sievier for his bust, is already as 
famous as we can possibly make him ; almost as 
much so, indeed, as Doctor Squintum himself. 
We are, Mr. Editor, 

Your sincere well-wishers, 

J— B— . 



SONG. 

Air.—" The tight little island." 
By J. B. 

1. 

Come, gentles, attend, 'tis the voice of a friend, 
So up, let us make a bold stand now, 

And drink while we sing, huzza for the king, 
And Warren the pride of the Strand now ; 
Huzza ! for the pride of the Strand now, 
Success to the pride of the Strand now s 



SONG. 137 

We'll all to a man sing as loud as we can, 
Huzza for the pride of the Strand now. 

2. 
Caledonian Hume, and Westmoreland Brougham 

Are famous, if men would but heed 'em, 
And Mister Grey Bennett, so fond of his dennett, 

Looks grey in the service of freedom ; 

Oh ! these are a talented baud, Sir, 

A remarkably talented band, Sir, 
But shed a faint spark, like a cat in the dark, 

Compared with the sun of the Strand, sir. 

3. 
T'other day Doctor Gall, in the Free-mason's hall, 
Took a cast of our artizan's cranium,* 

* The craniological discoveries of those twin»stars, Doctors 
Gall and Spurzheim. who undertake, it seems, to detect our 
moral and intellectual qualities by some corresponding bone of 
the cerebellum, are likely to become a bone of contention among 
the scientific literati of the day. All who have virtuous bumpi 
believe in the truth of their system, while those who have not, 
make no bones (probably from their cerebral deficiency) of op- 
posing it. It appears, according to Doctor Gall's late lectures, 
that both the corporeal and intellectual harmony of our natures 
is occasioned by certain organs of the skull, which are tuned 
by the hand of fate. That if a man, for instance, be found 
full iD the organ of •• adhesiveness," it is fair to conclude, that 
destiny intends him for a Lord Chancellor, and that if he be de- 
ficient in " conscientiousness," lie may calculate on success as a 
Whig. The organ of " size" indicates his fitness for an alder- 
man, while that of " constructiveness," unusually developed in 



138 SONG. 

And found that each bump stuck out like the stump 

Of an overgrown summer geranium ; 

So he drew up a treatise for Burnpus,* 

The great bibliopolist Bumpus, 
And a sovereign we'll stake, that his treatise will 
make 

A craniological rumpus. 

* The oame of a retail bookseller in Holborn. J. B. 

the skull of Mr. Warren, points to matters of mechanism or 
science, Innumerable, therefore, must be the people who are 
either hanged or transported from the mere size of their organs 
of " destructiveness," and " acquisitiveness." The accidents, 
however, such as murder, or theft, which result from these ini- 
quitous hillocks, are not the fault of their owners, but are sim- 
ply the result of destiny. Every thing, in short, is the work of 
fate. The discoveries of our chemists, and the verses of our 
minstrels, are nothing more than the necessary developement of 
bumps run to seed. Mr. Wordsworth consequently deserves no 
praise for his poem of the Excursion, for the organ of u weight" 
being unusually prominent in his skull, was destined to show its 
effects in the production of a heavy quarto. The organ of 
*' benevolence," on the same principle, prevents Mr John Gait 
from punishing us with any more tragedies ; iC love of approba- 
tion" curtails the parliamentary orations of Mr. Horatio Twiss, 
and if the ancestors of Lord Byron, instead of developing the 
organ of " combativeness" in their country's cause, had possess- 
ed some more mechanical bump, their descendant might have 
inherited the same characteristics, and instead of being now a 
lord, might have been a cheese-monger. 

Considering, therefore, that all moral and intellectual quali- 
ties, whether good, bad, or indifferent, are the necessary results 
of a particular formation of the brain, we think it but right that 



SONG, . 139 

4. 

Doctor Parr hath a wig horrific and big, 
As the spectre's in Milton of sin, Sir, 

Yet though full roundabout is his noddle without 9 
'Tis terribly vacant within, hir, 
But Warren's is quite the reverse now, 
Only look for a proof at his verse now, 

How his Pegasus stalks through Helicon's walks. 
As solemn as steeds at a hearse now. 

& 

Old Castaly's fountain, high up on the mountain 
Of Pindus, lends choice inspiration, 

But then you must drink, or your readers will sink 
In suspended (awhile) animation ; 
A fig for a liquor so racking, 
Brain, bladder, and bowels attacking, 

A far better fount to turn to account, 
Is Warren's Elixir of Blacking. 



a committee should be appointed to examine the skulls of the 
rising generation. That all who are full in the organ of **de» 
structiveness" should be instantly put to death with as little 
inconvenience as possible to the sufferers, while those who are 
only distinguished for the size of their organs of *' acquisitive- 
ness," ** secvetiveness," or any less obnoxious bump, may be sent 
to expiate their embryo delinquencies at the tread-mill. Thus, 
crime would be crushed in the egg, and the proprietors of virtu- 
ous bumps would be allowed to develope their valuable defor- 
mities for the common benefit of themselves and the community. 

J. B. 
13 



140 song* 

6. 

They talk about Southey and Coleridge so mouthy* 
And verse J?orowg7i-mongering Crabbe, Sir, 

But by Warren's side placed, their muses defaced* 
Look mere Cinderellas in drab, Sir : { 
Other bards raise their wind but in fiction, 
Are wealthy as Jews but in diction, 

While Warren can raise the wind a l'Anglaise, 
Still better in fact than in fiction. 

7. 

Oh mighty magician ! oh learned logician ! 

Each minstrel to thee's but an ass now, 
E'en the verses of Byron seem formed of cast-iron, 

While thine are the essence of brass now ; 

The image of Hyde Park Achilles, 

W T ho brass from the head to the heal is, 
Tby sole rival stands, though surely the Strand's 

Paragon beats Piccadilly's. 

8. 
But halt ! lads, 'tis time to finish our rhyme, 

For the jorum is quite at a stand now, 
So pass it and sing, — huzza for the king, 

And Warren the pride of the Strand now : 

Huzza ! too for administration, 

No matter who governs the nation, 
Like Bray's patent vicar, we'll bray o'er our liquor, 

In laud of all administration. 



APPENDIX, 

Br W. G. 



While this volume was yet in the progress of 
publication, the interest that it excited was unpre- 
cedented. The first literary characters of England 
expressed the most affectionate anxiety for its suc- 
cess. Contribution followed contribution, hint suc- 
ceeded to hint, and criticism to criticism, till enthu- 
siasm, quickened beyond its wonted pace, made san- 
guine strides towards perfection. But there are 
certain boundaries affixed to human intellect, and 
Warr^niana was still incomplete. A few of the 
great authors, to whom application had been made, 
delayed their contributions until there no longer re- 
mained a possibility of inserting them in the body of 
the work. In addition to this, their authenticity in 
some parts appeared questionable and as the editor 
had little or no time left for enquiries, he determined 
to introduce those passages only which bore the stamp 
of genuineness. The task of selection, however, was 
more difficult than he had imagined The indisputa- 
bly legitimate were so mixed up with the probably 
apochryphal paragraphs, that analysis became a mat- 
ter of as much nicety as the resolution of chemical 
compounds. Nevertheless he persisted in his task, 
which, having at last brought to a close, he has here 
ventured to arrange in one general appendix, in or- 



142 



APPENDIX. 



der that by so doing be may stop up every " loop 
hole" through which criticism could possibly intrude 
itself. 



The first contribution that suggests itself is the 
following delectable ditty. It reached the editor 
but four days since, when the last sheet of the " Bat- 
tle of Brentford Green" had been worked off, and the 
*' Notes" were already in the compositor's hands. 
From the nature of the subject, he could have little 
doubt respecting its legitimate owner, were not the 
sparkling scintillations of the verse somewhat unu- 
sually bedimmed. Such, however, as the poem is, 
he offers it to the notice of criticism, and need scarce- 
ly add, that the small irrelevant portions here pre- 
sented to the public, stand precisely the same as in 
the original MIS. 



THE LIST OF LOVES. 



Hi, 



By T. M. 



List, list, oh list ! Hamlet. 



1. 

Come, fill high the bowl, 'tis in vain to repine 
That the sun of life's summer is o'er. 



APPENDIX. 



143 



*Mid Hie autumn of age this Elixir* of mine 
Shall each moment of freshness restore ; 

E'en now its bright glow by acquaintance improved. 
Suns o'er each past extacy frozen, 

Till fancy recalls the tew friends I have loved, 
And the girls I have kissed by the dozen. 



By the dozen, oh monstrous mistake of the press. 

For dozen read hundreds, beginning 
With Fanny of Timmol, (41) the sylph whose caress 

First set my weak spirit a sinning : 
1 met her by night in the Liverpool stage, 

Ere the stage of my youth was resigned, 
Ah Fan ! thy sole guard in that passionate age, 

Was the guard on the dickey behind. 

3. 

# # * * * * 

* * 4f * * * * 



4. 
Pretty Sophy stood next on the lists of my love, 

Till 1 found (but it might not be so) 
That her tenderest transports were tendered above. 

While mine were all centered below : 
So I left her on Midsummer eve with a kiss, 

For I ne*er could from kissing refrain, 
But honestly mean, when we next meet in bliss, 

To give her the kiss back again. 

5. 

Oh, Kate was then all that a lover could seek, 
With an eye whose least spark full of soul 

* Supposed to have been the identical Elixir with which 
Saint Leon preserved his immortality. Vi dp Travels of Paint 
Tieon, by Godwin. T. M. 

} ri, * 



144 APPENDIX. 

Would madden a dozen young sparks in a week, 
Though, like Parry, they lived at the Pole : 

In the fulness of bliss she would whisper so coy, 
" We were born, love, to bill and to coo." 

Oh Kitty, I* ne'er paid a bill with such joy, 
As I paM my addresses to you. 



The poet, or more properly speaking, his interpo- 
lator, then proceeds to detail bis amours with one 
*• Bessy," whom he calls, in an affectionate parenthe* 
sis, u bewitchingly simple." He describes her as a 
native of Erin's u green isle," and discusses the me- 
rits of her " delicate slim feet," in language of im- 
passioned but apocryphal voluptuousness. It seems 
that her graceful dancing first captivated his fancy, 
an exercise to which the splendour resultiug from 
the use of Warren's blacking, (which she applied 
profusely to her pumps), lent additional elegance. 
'•Her feet," quoth our animated minstrel, "flashed 
fire as she waltzed, and her dear little eyes shone re- 
flected in their sable mirror like the westering sun- 
beams on the ocean." He then addresses himself to 
Warren, whose blacking he panegyrises as the chief 
object of Miss Elizabeth's attraction As this part, 
however, is, in the editor's opinion, heterodox, he re- 
jects it for the closing stanza, which bears the un- 
doubted impress of orthodoxy. The poet, it must be 
premised, has been specially recommending War- 
ren's blacking, and thus winds up his apostrophe. 

8. 
But away with regret—while the suns of my youth 

Shall gild the grey eve of my age, 
While memory shall borrow the pencil of truth 

To illumine life's desolate page ; 
While my heart, like some moon-silvered abbey, 
shall stand, 
All ruined though decked in a smile ; 



APPENDIX. 145 

I'll drink to O' Warren the lord of the Strand, 
And the pride of the Emerald Isle. 



The next contribution savours strongly of the 
cockney school, being written by a young gentleman 
who seems far gone in a confirmed admiration of 
Leigh Hunt. It is intitled " The Apotheosis of 
Warren, a Pastoral Mask;" and is, of course, well 
manured with the requisite modicum of daffodils, 
eglantines, and cherubs. Even the " great Boreas" 
himself is pressed into the service (a great bore he 
is, by the bye), and trained to blow over the Regent's 
Canal with very pretty effect. The bard commences 
his pastoral by supposing himself lying "one prank- 
ish summer's eve" in a cart-rut at the foot of Prim- 
rose Hill. While thus prostrated, he suddenly falls 
asleep, and is forthwith visited by some half dozen 
shepherds and shepherdesses, whom he describes as 
being busied in toying with "the perked up hay- 
cocks" of Fairy-land. On a sudden the scene chan- 
ges to "the Temple of Art and Science" on Mount 
Parnassus, where a "glorious genius" is discovered 
lying dead. This glorious genius is no other than 
Warren, over whose corpse a set of sylphs are strew- 
ing flowers, consisting, for the most part, of the fol- 
lowing poetic plants : 

Cowslips, buttercups, and roses, 

Thyme with dulcet dew-drops wet, 

Sage and onions, pinks and posies, 
Cauliflower and mignionet. 

While this is going forward, Oberon, king of the fai- 
ries, enters, and desires the pastoral worthies to pay 
their last respects to the defunct and gifted manufac- 
turer. No sooner said than done; the monarch 
wares his gossamer spear, and instantly a selec 



t46 APPENDIX. 

abundance of cherubs walk two by two, like young 
ladies in a Sioane Street boarding school, around the 
body. Fast come Ofreron and Titadia 'hand in hand, 
ami then the following peculiarly appropriate indivi- 
duals, a«i of whom, it must be observed, have got 
pocket-handkerchiefs, " woven of aspen leaves," ap- 
plied to their eves. — Mab and Melibaeus ; Pease- 
blossom and Theocritus; Pan, Puck, and Priapus ; 
Vertumnus, Veshnoo, and Virgil; Ruth, Boaz, and 
Bottom ; Gcssner and Metastasio ; Adonis and Cali- 
ban ; Spenser and Proserpine ; Flora, Faunus, and 
a Glendoveer in corduroy shorts; Amaryllis, Arethu- 
sa, and Ambrose Phillips; Chloe, Comus, and Cory- 
don; Florizel, Perdita, a warlock, two kelpies and a 
bogle; Bion and Mosehus; Ariel in top-boots; En- 
dymion and John Keats ; Actaeon and a wood nymph 
in short petticoats; iEnone and Leigh Hunt, (this 
last in yellow breeches); Hesiod, James Hogg? 
Charles Lamb, and the Faithful Shepherdess; and 
lastly, the poet himself, with an ass's head for a hat, 
which he says was given him by Oberon, " the jea- 
lous and jaunty fay-king." 

When this procession is concluded, Mab, " she of 
the witching tongue,*' is called on for a speech, which, 
as it is a long one, the editor forbears to insert. It 
consists wholly of compliments to Warren, whose 
blacking is characterised as the light of the modern 
world, as that light by which mortals pick their way 
through the " swaling snares of life," as an Irishman 
picks his way through the " flowerless bog of Allan." 
At this period, the bard awakes, but finding (natural- 
ly enough) that his slumbers in the cart-rut have 
given him a rheumatism, he goes home with the re- 
solution to beguile its pain by an account of what 
"happ'd him in slumber." As a specimen of his 
poetry, the editor contents himself with the above 
brief extract, partly from the spurious, and partly 
from the mediocre character of the rest. He may 



APPENDIX. 147 

observe, however, that the whole is the production 

of Mr. C— — ■ W , whose mind, though somewhat 

deteriorated by the maudlin affectations of the cock- 
ney school, is yet not devoid of fancy. 



The next contribution is from the pen of the reve- 
rend orator of H— ■ G , and is rather quaintly 

intituled, ** For Warren's Blacking, an Oration in 
one part." In it Mr. 1 ■ observes, that by reason 
of his time being so fully taken up with the cure of 
souls, he is unable to do that full-length justice to 
Warren that his genius requires, and has therefore 
been obliged to content himself with an abridged, or 
miniature contribution. This contributions it seems, 
is iuteaded " to be after the manner of the ancient 
oration, the best vehicle," adds Mr. I , "for ad- 
dressing the minds of man that the world hath seen," 
and is fashioned into a letter to the editor, (in an- 
swer to one that he wrote respecting an article of 
Warreniana) which is thus headed. 

Hatton Garden, April 1st, 1823. 
My honored Friend, 
The lusts of the masters of this thoughtless godless 
generation (like generation like masters) whose vile 
and filthy speculations, engendered in the limbo of 
vanity, are hatched by the suns of sin upon the 
quicksands of this ball of earth, engross the leisure 
that I had set apart for the consideration of thine 
artless appliance. Much it dispiriteth me to think 
of thy discomfiture, but the flush and flashy spirit of 
the age claimeth exclusive attention, and I thank 
heaven that hath ordained me by signs unequivocal 
to sit in judgment upon it. Of a verity, my mind 
likeneth it to a huge temple erected in honour of 
Iniquity, and the sous of men to the hardened brick- 
bats wherewith it is built up. For, behold, they 



i 

148 APPENDIX. 

are£given to sordid and slavish sensualities, and aye 
continue reckless of the ho!e that mammon daily 
puncheth in their souls, as though it were but a hofe 
in their nether garments, I can testify, — I can tes- 
tify that they are crusted all over with leprous 
iniquities, that they feed on virginity as though (oh 
shocking!) it' were a mtitton chop, and no more heed 
the voice of wisdom that crieth in liatton Garden,, 
than they heed the voice of the Israelite who crieth 
"old cloaths" in the street. Men and brethren! is 
this always to continue, or is it to have an end ? If, 
oblivious of your spiritual interests, ye resolve to 
brave it out, then look well to yourselves, for even 
now I behold ye bound, one and ail, to the ocean of 
darkness, the steam-hoar of sin awaiteth to carry ye 
across, the wind sits fair for Tophet, and the pilot, 
Death, stands sniggering for very joy upon the deck. 

But yet amid the sins and the snares and the 
sneers of this stiffnecked shameless generation, there 
is one man who hath eschewed the cud of iniquity 
like a cow. and, addressing himself to a godlike life of 
science, hath dwelt alone amid the crowded chaos of 
the Strand, like some bashful blossom in the wilder- 
ness. And he hath been rewarded with many new 
scientific discoveries, for behold he hath made, in the 
stillness of his retreat, divers tuns of precious jet 
black liquid, the which he hath put forth in comely 
stone bottles. But mark the invidious soul of this 
degraded age ! They have jeered and backbitten and 
insulted his pure and poetic advertisements. AH 
for what ? For daring to make them simple and 
scientific in expression, and grafting t hereon sweet 
and salutary commendations of his blacking. Had 
he sent his advertisements forth among courts and 
palaces, with portraitures by Westal! or Wolnooth 
affixed thereto, his musings had been more welcome, 
but because the man hath valued modesty and com- 
mon household truth, therefore is he designated & 



APPEN1HX, 



149 



^isack. It is not for me (albeit a devout admirer), to 
attempt any first-rate advocation of his cause, but thus 
much i may be permitted to add, that before the 
fame of the man Warren shall expire, the " heartless 
Childe' 5 shall take unto himself the editorship of the 
Evangelical Magazine ; his staves forgotten and for- 
given of ail, shall be ingulphed in the aestuary of ob- 
livion, and mine own immortal orations be sent to 
keep them company on the voyage I could add 
divers pleasant things touching these last, which I 

dedicate, my G , to you, but that the occupations 

of life are so many, and the first of April so ominous. 
Wherefore, in much haste, 

I am, 
My honored friend, 
Yours, in the bonds of fraternity, 
E~-~ I- — . 

P. S. I have just room enough left in this sheet of 
paper to request that you will look well to yourself, 
and have mercy upon your own soul.* 



The following and last contribution is from the 
pen of the accomplished author of the " Knife Grin- 
der,' ' a parody which made its appearance some 
years since in the Anti-Jacobin. The metre, like its 
prototype, is sapphic, and consists of an imaginary 
dialogue between a friend of science, and an ap- 
prentice of our illustrious manufacturer. The con- 
versation is supposed to take place in the great hall 
of the Society of Arts at the Adelphi, by the philoso- 
pher's requesting to know the nature of a particular 
patent which the apprentice holds in his hand. On 
being told that it was for anew discovery in blacking, 
be enters into a minute catechism respecting its ma- 
nufacturer, which induces a panegyric upon Warren, 

* Vide Preface to my Orations* 



1 50 APPENDIX. 

in the course of which his menial incidentally ex- 
claims, addressing himself to the friend of science : 

We shall be glad to have your honor's custom, 
Sixpence per pot we charges for our best jet 
Blacking, but if you give us back the pot, we 
Makes an allowance. 

This touching appeal is naturally successful with 
the philosopher, who proffers his immediate patron- 
age. Then follows a glorious, but ungrammatical 
burst of enthusiasm from the apprentice which is thus 
effectively wound up : 

Sing then, oh sing his praises ; and may London, 
Hampstead, and Highgate echo back the ditty, 
While every night-wind whistles to the tune of 

" Buy Warren's Blacking.'* 

This " Sapphic dialogue" is, as the reader will not 
fail to remark, a mere skeleton, like the sermons of 
Mr. Simeon. It will serve, however, to show the 
interest that is excited by " Warreniana," when even 
our first statesman, amid the combined toils of the 
cabinet and the gout, can afford time and inclination 
to befriend it. The editor has purposely omitted 
some parts, from the reasons stated at the commence- 
ment of his appendix, thinking it far better to be 
scanty but select, than superabundant but spurious in 
his contributions. He retires, however, from the 
field, to use the language of the Great Unknown, (on 
a far less important occasion,) conscious that there 
remains behind, not only a large harvest, but la- 
bourers capable of gathering it into the granary of 
" Warreniana." 



NOTES. 
By W. G. 



(I) / was told by a Hottentot of his having been unfortunate in 
love,— Page 17, 
The gentleman who volunteered this Information appears, 
like other barbarians, to have been more poetical in his prose 
than the respect due to veracity wonld warrant. The whole 
circumstances of the amour 1 have discovered, after a long and 
laborious search, to be purely fictitious. What opinion, then, 
must such a brazen calumniator have formed of the capacity of 
his readers? But he was right — For the personal description 
of " Warren," vide " Roscoe" in the Sketch Book, vol. i. 

(2) Stokes indecent— Page 29. 

I object to the word indecent in its present tortured accepta- 
tion of immorality. Ben Jonson, Massinger, and indeed most of 
our old dramatists, apply it in contra distinction to the word 
ornament Now it was without doubt inelegant in Stokes to 
sit beside Elizabeth Foy with his knee-strings laxatively pendu- 
lous, but by no means indecent; and though I venture not an 
apology for his conduct as ungraceful,. I altogether dismiss it as 
indecent For indecent, then, read (raeo periculo) inelegant 

(3) My stars ! how we improve. — Page 22. 

There is something abhorrent to my mind in this profane and 
familiar use of the word ** stars." To connect the crude improve- 
ments of mortality with the all-perfect works of the divine na- 
ture, is in itself defective as a simile ; but to call upon the con- 
stellations to attest that improvement is a blasphemy to utterly 
unprincipled, that my mind staggers in an abortive attempt to 
express its adequate reprehension. The devout reader is re- 
ferred to my note on *' my star?," in Ben Jonson's Every Man 
out of his Humour, Act I, scene 1. — For the catalogue of niouu* 
tains, vide " Johanua" in W— 's poems. 
14 



1 52 NOTES. 

(4) Tom and Jerry. — Page 29. 
This passage alludes, I presume, to a dramatic non-descnpt 
of the same name, which was performed for two successive sea- 
sons to the crowded (of course) and enlightened audiences of 
the Adelphi. I merely mention the thing as a curious specimen 
of the most singular and superlative stupidity, that the thrice- 
sodden brains of a hireling scribbler ever yet inflicted on the 
patience of the public. 

(5) Odzooks, Papa, Pm dying.— Page 34. 
I have beeu long puzzled to ascertain the primitive meaning 
of this anomalous exclamation " odzooks." Tooke (vide Div. 
Purl.) supposes it to have been a monkish epithet of wonder. 
Todd takes fire at this *' random," so he terms it, conjecture; 
and the wretched Malone, in that farrago of drivelling malig- 
nity, the Commentary on Shakspeare, dismisses it with his usual 
felicitous flippancy. But Todd and Tooke— et vitula tu dignus 
et hie — are alike mistaken in their opinions, for the phrase is 
simply interjectional, and as such was much used by the wet« 
nurses of the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries. 

(6) With sugar plwns of full size, 

And lollipops and hulVs eyes. — Page 35. 

The ever active kindnes3 of Mr. D'lsraeli has succeeded ia 
furnishing me with the loan of a lollipop, similar to the one 
mentioned in the text. It is oval in person, and from the sac- 
charine lubricity of its flavour seems peculiarly adapted to the 
palate of a stripling. The poet has therefore happily associated 
it with the Bonnie or Bull's-eye of sweet and succulent notoriety. 
My own opinion, which I conjecture to be right, from the simple 
circumstance of its differing from Mr. Malone's, is, that the lol- 
lipop was a species of stick liquorish, in which sense 1 find it re- 
spectfully mentioned by the authors of " Eastward Hoe" and 
the " Merry Devil of Edmonton." 

(7) Apollo followed arter. — Page 35. 

The word arter or aHer, as it is sometimes syncopated with a 
broad inflection of the first syllable, I find to be the Doric 
dialect of Cockaigne; a dialect in frequent use among those en- 
lightened* members of society, the washer-women. In pronun- 
ciation it claims analogy with the broad etperav atto 7ra.aretv 
of Pindar. 

N.B. Since the above note was sent to the press, I acciden- 
tally discovered, through the kindness of Mr. Farley, the valu-~ 



NOTES. 153 

able MS, of an obsolete pantomime, the production of one 
Shiels, a Scotchman, in which I find the phrase "what are you 
at, what are you arterV The expression, therefore, had an 
evident theatrical origin, and I am proud to find my opinion 
hacked by the authority of Mr. George Soanp, a dramatist of 
considerable ability. 

(8) Her father dared to nihip in, 

A monstrous earthen pip-kin. — Page 36. 
The Poet is here mistaken, it was not a pip-kin that the old 
gentleman was stewed in, but a brass kettle, which, as Medea 
was a powerful enchantress, she probably manufactured from 
the face of her insolent and aspiring lover. Moreover, it was 
Dot iEson that was thus barbarously parboiled, but Pelias, and 
that by his own daughters. — Assuredly cool impudence could go 
no further than this. 

(9) So now good night, my Johnny, 
Put your night cap on ye. —Page 36. 

The origin of night-caps is lost in the remoteness of antiquity. 
The classic writers of Greece and Rome are silent on this im- 
portant topic, unless, indeed, the crowns of laurel with which 
their authors, sometimes even the humblest in intellect, were 
honoured, may be considered as a metaphorical symbol. Cer- 
tain it is, that as deep and efficient slumbers have been caused 
by the ancient fillet as the modern nightcap. Wigs, too, are 
not wholly without blame, for a flowery pomp of frizz is fre- 
quently found to conceal an equal pomp of verbiage. — Par no- 
bile fratrum. — I have never ceased to lament that the messenger 
who drew Priam's curtains in the dead of night and awoke him 
from nig " curtained sleep,** left us no record of the old gentle- 
man's head dress. The subject at such a crisis, would have 
been deeply interesting. 

(10) A digression on the family of Warren, fyc— P. 37. 

A terra used by Gibbon to distinguish an episode of his his- 
tory. Mr. C— M — , the author of this digression, appears to 
have imbibed no inconsiderable share of the great Classic's vigor 
and splendid march of diction. — Arcades ambo. — 

(11) For two straight lines can ne'er inclose a space, — -P. 49, 
An axiom in Euclid. As Cambridge Is a mathematical uni- 
versity, this poetic allusion to its pursuits was received with 



154 VOTE:-. 

much applause in the senate house. It evinces besides great 
alphabetical research, 

(12) Like Amphilrite the great Neptune's daughter. —Page 54. 
Amphitrite was the wife, not the daughter of Neptune; but 
this mistake of course from the author of that elaborate absur- 
dity " The Deluge"— Majora Canamus.— 

(13) But he replied, No, blast we, if I wooll.— -Page 60. 

WoolU the JEolic dialect for will. 

(14) And thus she cried, will this here soul decay.— P. 60. 

The phrase " here" possesses great expletive pathos, and ap- 
pears synonymous with the " sui ipsius" of the most approved 
Latin writers. In circumstances of urgent distress, I know no 
expression that appeals more simply yet touchingly to the 
heait, and the reader who can unmoved peruse the similar la- 
ment of the dying robber in Don Juan, " Oh, Jack ! Pm floored 
by that ere bloody Frenchman," must be more or less than 
man. The language is truly Virgilian. 

(15) Our beloved OWoherty on the other. — Page 63, 

This gentleman, together with Dr. Scott the Odontisl, Mr* 
Tims, the Reverend Christopher North, and others mentioned 
in the same article, are contributors (fictitious or not) to that 
amusing Miscellany, Blackwood's Magazine. 

(16) We have every reason to believe that Sir William Curtis is 

the author of the Scotch novels. — Page 68. 

I derive a proud satisfaction from being able to coincide with 
the conjectures of the Reverend Mr. North on this important 
literary topic. My reasons for such agreement, which have 
long engaged my earnest and undivided attention, I shall beg 
leave to class under the following heads, each of which contains 
some strong presumptive proof, 

I. The author of the Scotch novels is a zealous lover of good 
cheer, as his character of Dalgetty and his descriptions of the 
revelries in Quentin Durwood and Kenilworth sufficiently be- 
token. — Sir William Curtis is notorious for his similar partiali- 
ties, and has been often heard to depict the festivals at Guild* 
hall in language of at least equal beauty, 



NOTE!?. 1 55 

II. The novelist is an evident partizan of Ministry. — Ditto 
Sir William Curtis. 

III. The novelist is in the frequent habit (particularly in the 
Introduction to Quentin Durward) of alluding to his property 
and influence, which proves him to be a man of wealth.— On 
this point of close resemblance, vide the Rent-roll of Sir W. 
Curtis. 

IV. The novelist is fond of using the Scotch idiom, which he 
manifestly affects for the purpose of concealing his superficial 
acquaintance with English. The scenes of his earlier works are 
all laid in Scotland, and it is not, until by freqnent practice he 
has habituated himself to the language, that he attempts to shift 
his subjects to England. — Sir William Curtis labours under simi- 
lar grammatical deficiencies, and would naturally have recourse 
to the facile barbarisms of the Gaelic, under whose protecting 
mantle his defects might pas? unnoticed. 

V. In his Introduction to Peveril of the Peak, the novelist 
describes himself as " a stout elderly gentleman." — Sir W. Cur- 
tis answers to this description with an almost miraculous resem- 
blance. 

VI. The novelist is pingularly fond of analyzing the character 
of royalty, as for instance, in his Elizabeth, King James, Queen 
Mary, Louis XI., Charles II., Queen Caroline, Charles of Bur- 
gundy, Chevalier Saint George, Richard Cceur-de lion. This 
faculty could only have been acquired by a long and extreme 
intimacy with courts, and the warm friendship of our present 
gracious monarch for Sir William Curtis is proverbial in the 
fashionable world. 

VII. The language of the novelist is never so happy, as when 
descriptive of a sea voyage ; his details, for instance, of the ves- 
sel which conveyed IVIorton from Scotland, and that which bore 
Queen Mary to the shores of England, are two of the most splen- 
did passages in Old Mortality and the Abbot. — The romantic 
love of Sir W, Curtis for sea voyages, and his frequent excursions 
in his yacht to the Isle of Wight, closely correspond with the 
similar attachments of the novelist. 

VIII. The characters of the novelist, with few exceptions, are 
remarkable for their conversational tact, which prove that he 
must have passed his time in some great metropolis, where 
alone such tact can be acquired. — Sir W. Curtis for many years 
of his life has been resident in London and Ramsgate, places 
alike notorious for the number, variety, and conversational 
ability of their inhabitants. 

IX. The novelist is fond of enthusiastic allusions to the graces 
of the Highland dress.— Sir W. Curtis, during the late royal 
visit to Scotland, appeared at court in the full costume of a 

14* 



156 NOTES. 

Highlander, thus practically proving that his own partialities 
corresponded with those of the novelist. 

X. The novelist seems peculiarly at home in drawing the 
characters of wealthy burgesses and citizens, as in the case of 
Pavilion, the burgess of Liege, and Nicol Jarvie, the Baillie, or 
Alderman of Glasgow. This affords a fair presumption that he 
himself belongs to the body corporate of some great city, an# 
the close connection of Sir W. Curtis with the city institutions 
of London, strengthens his claim to the composition of the 
Scotch novels. 

To these convincing arguments I have yet one to add. The 
novelist, it seems, is every where desirous of showing himself an 
arrant Scotchman. Were he really one, he would be in no hur- 
ry to mention his misfortune; but it is evident by this very as* 
gertion, that he is some Englishman, desirous, from motives of 
emolument, of preserving an anonymous notoriety. The fact of 
3iis residence in London, being once authenticated, detection 
must ensue; he is well aware of this, so identifies his local in- 
terests with Edinburgh, and thus gets the start of conjecture by 
at least four hundred miles. That our illustrious city baronet 
should wish to prolong this strict anonimity 1 can well conceive, 
when I remember the unprecedented sums that his incognito 
procures him. Still the debateable land of conjecture is a com* 
won open to all, and despite his assertions to the contrary, I feel 
myself justified in pronouncing Sir W. Curtis to be the sole au- 
thor of the Scotch novels. 

N.B. Since the above note was written, I have learned with 
great satisfaction that Sir W. Curtis is travelling in Italy for the 
purpose of collecting materials for a philosophical dissertation on 
the suppers of Lucullus. 

(1?) Before I conclude, I think it but right to observe that the 
poem, with the exception of a few lines, #c. was written on the 
First of April, A.D. 1812.— Page 81. 
Mr. C — e has chosen a most appropriate day for the composi- 
tion of his " Psychological Curiosity. 1 ' By a similar coinci- 
dence, his Christabel I understand, was both conceived and ex- 
ecuted on the Twenty-ninth of Seotember, (Michaelmas day,) 
A.D. 1796. 

(18) Then shouted to Warren with .fitful breath, 

Vm old Mother Nightmare Life'in*death. — P. 84. 

This old gentlewoman is the same who figures in Mr. C — e's 
^ Rime of the Auncientte Marinere." She is there introduced 
as playing at Cribbage with a fiend or incubus. 



NOTES. 157 

(19) His figure majestic, and formed for braving, 
Battle or blood — and he wanted shaving, — P. 86. 

A striking and instructive illustration of the bathos : for other 
equally choice specimens, the reader is referred to Martinui 
Scriblerus mp B*0ot/s, or Hazlitt's Table-talk, passim. 

(20) Oh, king of the cochtailed incubi /—Page 87. 

^ It is perfectly nauseating to record the unprincipled plagia- 
risms of our modern witlings. Like the leaden-headed commen- 
tators on Shakspeare, one laborious blunderer follows another 
through the same eternal routine of dull and drivelling imita- 
tion. The present delectable plagiarism is diluted from the 
•* coctilibus muris" of Ovid ; not, however, without sustaining 
some damage from clumsy distillation, 

(21) / have dandies who laud me at Pained and Almack's.— 

Page 87. 

This is a gratuitous assumption ; but Mr. C — e is always po- 
sitive in proportion to his ignorance. Mr. Warren (however he 
may deserve it) is not the theme of commendation at Almack's. 
Who ever heard of genius being the object of admiration in a 
Ball-room ? Had that inconceivably fatuitous Boeotian, Malone, 
whose no rank in literature entitles him to similar regard, made 
this stupid assertion, I should have passed it, as 1 do the pages 
of those twin stars, Chalmers and Steevens, with befitting con- 
tempt, but the intellect of Mr. C — e entitles him to (at least) 
consideration. 

(22) Like little Puss with Belasco the Jew. — Page 88. 

The Biography of ** little Puss,'' like the four missing books 
of Tacitus, has been shrouded in the Lethe of time. I have 
consulted with my friend the Dean of W — r, in whose Chapter, 
I am told, he resided, with very inefficient success. The epithet 
" little," however, implies that like " lucus a non lucendo" he 
must have been a pugilist of gigantic make, for I find a similar 
term applied to one John, a favourite page of Robin Hood. 

(23) This desperate Mill.—Vage 88. 
I was for some months puzzled to ascertain the precise mean- 
ing of this ambiguous term. My mind first conjectured that it 
alluded simply to a wind mill ; and secondly, that it meant a 
tread mill. But here 1 found myself treading upon ticklish 



158 NOTES. 

ground, so, as a last resource, I applied to Mr. John Randall, 
who informed me with prompt politeness, that u Mill" was the 
generic denomination of a fight. For " Mil!," then, read 
"fight." 

(24) And the blood from his peepers went drip, drip, drip. — 

Page 89. 

Vide a well known parallel passage in the tragedy of Re» 
morse, "drip, drip, drip, there's nothing here but dripping." 
1 think it a justice due to Mr. C — , to state that it is not a 
cook who puts forth this pleasing remark, but a Moor : nor does 
it allude to the dripping pan, but to the lapsing flow of a foun- 
tain. Ben Jonson is its original owner. 

(25) And he dropped with a Lancashire Purr on his back. — 

Page 89. 

u Little Puss," according to the few scattered accounts I have 
been enabled to glean, was famous for his Lancashire Purr ; 
which is nothing more than a North country fashion, by which 
the pugilist runs his head into the body of his antagonist. The 
shock from so leaden and thick a substance must be attended, 
one would conceive, like a cannon ball, with instant annihila- 
tion. 

(26) All Foofrs'Day.— Page 94. 

This is the oldest and most generally received feast-day in the 
annals of the world. All religions agree in holding it with equal 
enthusiasm. 

(£7) Though the artist is of first-rate celebrity, and wears no 
crav a /.—Page 95. 

To wear no cravat is an indisputable sign of genius among our 
pastoral and poetic scribblers. A rope, methinks, would suit a 
choice few of them with more appropriateness than a necker* 
chief, and I see no reason why a man who perpetrates a publi- 
cation (on the mere score of eccentricity) should escape, when 
the wretch who commits a forgery is hanged. To affront the 
sensibility of the pocket is surely less atrocious than to volunteer 
an assault on the understanding. 



TOTES. . 1 59 

(28) Reverend Edward Irving attempted an imitation of the fa- 
mous apostrophe of Demosthenes, #c— Page 96. 

Of this Dagon of the Philistines, it is impossible to speak in 
terms of praise. He is a dissenter, it seems, and of course un- 
worthy the consideration of the orthodox, Still, notwithstand- 
ing his heresies, Hatton Garden is eternally thronged, whiie our 
churches — but it is useless to say more, for who can sound the 
depths of human folly ? 

(29) King of Spain restored to his throne. — Page 97. 

The cause of kings is a divine cause. Those radical factions, 
misnamed ** constitutional" may oppose it, but it is the cause of 
justice, and as such must eventually triumph. Vide a Quar- 
terly Review, passim, 

(30) A triit statement discovered in CobbeVs register.—?. 98. 

An impudent and unqualified falsehood. The character of 
this hoary anarchist, this Erostratus of the grand fabric of our 
constitution is too well established to excuse even a doubt. He 
may drivel his specious slaver over truth, but even truth turns 
to falsehood at his touch. " Hie Niger est, hunc tu Romane, 
caveto." 

(31) Not content with a wholesome and sensible repast they must 
needs give them coffee, ham, eggs, chocolate, orange, marma- 
lade, and gooseberry jam, fyc — Page 103. 

The complaints of these unimportant extravagances, and of 
the gooseberry jam in particular, are truly ludicrous, and merit 
for their sole reply, the answer which a Roman statesman made 
to the questions of a meddlesome and mischievous financier. — 
11 One, jam satis." 

(32) Did the House, let me ask, ever see the individual for whose 

gains it is thus shamefully solicitous? — P. 108. 

Vide Mr. B — m's sarcastic allusion to Cuchi the waiter of 
Trieste, in his speech on the memorable occasion of the Queen's 
trial. I need not point out to the reader's abhorrence this false 
and calumnious description of my friend. It speaks for itself. 

(33) Had Mr. Burke been still alive, he would have agreed with 
me, I jam persuaded, in opinion, and by way of commence* 



1 60 NOTES. 

ment would have pulled off the Jaok-boots of our Horse 
Guards — with or without Boot Jacks, as it may kave suited the 
emergency of the case, if indeed any case was ever before reduc- 
ed to so deplorable an emergency, an emergency proceeding 
from the follies of Government, of a Government notorious for 
every species of gratuitous infamy.— Mr. Burke I repeat^ #c. 
Page 110. 

This involution of sentence upon sentence is a favourite fea- 
ture in Mr. B — m's oratory, as the following passage will attest. 
44 Their lordships, for reasons best known to themselves— but 
for reasons, he doubted not, that were dictated by consummate 
wisdom, and which they had not proceeded on till fully enlight- 
ened by experience and a careful review of all the precedents 
that could bear upon the present case, — their lordships, he re- 
peated, had prevented him, &c. &c. Vide the Report of Mr. 
B — m's speech on the subject of the Queen's trial. 

(34) A few years since, 4" c * a serious affray took place between 
those illustrious rivals IVarren, and Day and Martin.- -Page 
121. 

I am happy to say, that after much laborious investigation, I 
have ascertained the correct date of this battle. The generous 
friendship of Mr. D'lsraeli has indueed him to consult rii old 
barrow-woman who lives at Brentford, on the subject ; and 
from whom he learns that the skirmish took place a month pre- 
vious to the demise of her first husband. Wow her first hus- 
band, as I learn from Mr. Crabbed Parish Register, died in the 
Autumn of 1818. To this date then the point in question must 
be referred. 

(35) And many a beauteous Border maid.— Page 123. 

So called from the circumstance of her residing in the neigh- 
bourhood. Palisade; a somewhat distorted definition of a 
window. 

(36) He looked as scant as Ettrick witches, — Page 125. 
Ettrick forest is a sort of boarding school for young witches, 

where they keep holiday on moonlinht nights, tl A truly re- 
spectable academy i'faith." 

(37) And the red banners (formed by hap 

Of two old skirts stitched flap to flap.)— Page 129. 
The indefatigable researches of my friend Mr. Francis Douce, 
have at last enabled him to procure me one of these celebrated 



NOTES. 16! 

banners. It is quartered according to the most received milita- 
ry practices, And in the midst appears a portrait which 1 at first 
mistook for the effigy of a goose and trimmings ; but now find to 
compose the head and wig of my friend Robert Warren. On ei- 
ther side are blazoned two blacking brushes rampant, armed and 
laugued gules, with a pair of top boots argent. The whole 
forms a striking heraldic curiosity, and is now deposited in the 
British Museum. 



(38) And shouted as his bands he led, 

To Pat O'Thwackum at their head.— Page 130. 

" Of Patrick O'Thwackura," to use the language of Doctor 
Johnson, " thus presented to my mind, let me here indulge the 
remembrance." Though an Irishman he was constant in his 
attachments, and formed one of our little school at A — n. In 
temper he was peculiarly irascible, and it was doubtless this 
latter accomplishment that engaged him in the wars of Day and 
Martin, under whose banners he lost a considerable quantity of 
teeth, together with no slight portion of uose. I have not 
crossed his path since we last parted at A— n, but even at this 
distance, I cherish his memory with more than fraternal fond- 
ness. 

(39) The two CV Noodles from Blackwall — Page 132. 
The Q'Noodles, a flourishing family in Ireland, are notorious 
for the magnitude of their organs of combativeness. The two 
young men mentioned in the text form a part of this hopeful 
and prolific stock. They are, or rather were apprentices to 
Day and Martin, and were honoured with a crown of martyr- 
dom on Brentford Green. 

(40) Stubbs two of Brentford Green the rose. — Page 132. 

How this gentleman could be the rose of Brentford, when it 
was well known in the private circle of his acquaintance, that 
he was a Creole in complexion, transcends the comprehension 
of criticism. I profess not to unravel the paradox; it rests be- 
tween the author and his conscience. With respect to his Bio- 
graphy, tradition records that Stubbs was hanged the morning 
previous to the battle j which, if true, affords a satisfactory 
reason for his absence. — Of the rest of the skirmishers, little re- 
mains to be told. Their names have either past down the 
stream of time, or moulder on the records of the marble ; and all 
that is now known of them is, that they once existed.— Sic 
transit gloria mundi. 



lt>2 NOTBfe. 

(41) With Fanny of Timmol.— Page 143. 
See a smart Little Bijou, entitled " Fanny of Timnroi, a 
mail-coach adventure," The kindness of the proprietor of the 
Bull and Mouth Inn, London, has furnished me with the follow* 
ing particulars respecting this young lady. A Miss Frances 
Timmol (as appears by his day books of the time) took an inside 
place in the Union stage for Liverpool, A.D. 1799. Her lug- 
gage consisted of two bandboxes, a poodle dog, and a basket. 

Mr. M. , then a gentleman '* in the flower of his youth," 

happened to be the only passenger besides herself in the coach, 
so that the innocent flirtations to which he alludes in the text, 
must have taken place on the road. I am far from being a 
friend to such amusements, for they not only give a character of 
levity to the vehicle in which they occur, but do infinite da- 
mage to the morals of the coachman. Miss Timmol, however, 
appears by tradition to have been a young gentlewoman of very 
respectable acquirements, and as such is entitled to the good 
opinion of the commentator. 



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